Blood Ties
by Ly
1. The Brats

bt1 _~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what   
you are not." Andre Gide  
-----  
"We weep over the graves of infants and the little ones taken from us by  
death; but an early grave may be the shortest way  
to heaven." Tryon Edwards   
------  
"To die will be an awfully big adventure." James Matthew Barrie   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
_   
  
**Chapter One**  
  
  
Son Goku was dreaming. Something with soft wings fluttered against his cheek, and he brushed it away. The insect landed again; its prickly legs tickled his wrist. _There's a butterfly in the bedroom,_ he thought, then drifted away again.   
  
"Kakarotto, get up!" A young voice demanded.   
  
Son`s eyes opened. Blue sky dotted by puffy white clouds filled his field of vision.   
He sat up, his stiff, black hair full of sand. It slid down the back of his gi, making his skin   
itch uncomfortably. He sat beside a lazy, little stream with a sandy bank, surrounded by   
dense jungle on both sides. The heat was stifling; Son wiped beads of sweat from his   
forehead with the back of his arm, smearing wet sand across his forehead.. Son stood,   
looked around, concluded that he was somewhere he hadn't been before. He flew above   
the canopy, and saw the steam running like a jagged scar though impossibly thick jungle; nothing but tree tops in every direction.   
  
"Kakarotto, down here!" That voice again. He returned to the ground.   
  
"Where are you?" He called, looking around.   
  
"Over here, dummy. Wow! You got big." It came from behind Son. He turned   
toward the sound and saw a little girl hung from a tree branch by her furry brown tail. She had long black hair, pulled out of her eyes with a piece of braided string. The girl couldn't   
have been more than ten and was probably closer to seven. She touched his arm   
tentatively, then drew her hand back. "You got really big." Her tail uncurled and she   
dropped to the ground. She circled Son studied closely, then craned her neck, looking at his lower back.   
  
Son knew she was looking for his missing tail. Well, nothing he could do about   
that. "You're Saiya-jin... right?" The girl nodded; she walked behind him. Goku watched   
her over his shoulder. "I've never met a girl Saiya-jin before."   
  
She laughed softly. "There never was that many of us."   
  
"Are you mean?" He said suddenly.   
  
The girl looked him in the eyes. "What kind of question is that?"   
  
Son shrugged. "I don`t know. I just wanted to know if you`re friendly or mean."   
  
She laughed again, louder this time, but didn`t answer his question. " You look just   
like Bardock. But don`t worry. I won't hold it against you."   
  
"Who's Bardock?" Son asked, shifting nervously under her scrutiny.   
  
The girl's smile faded. "You know who Bardock is."   
  
"No I don`t." Son insisted pleasantly.   
  
"Don`t joke like that, Kakarotto. It's not funny."   
  
"I`m not joking," he said. "I hit my head really hard when I was a baby." Son   
whacked the side of his head with his fist. He made his head teeter from side to side, and his eyes roll around in their sockets. "See? Like that."   
  
"That's very undignified," she said, trying to sound reproachful, not sure if she   
should be amused or angry, decided it was pointless and settled on amused.   
  
"I can't remember anything before that." Son built on that thought. "Who are   
you?"   
  
"You really don`t remember?" She tried not to take it personally. It wasn't really   
his fault, she knew that, but it was little consolation.   
  
"No." The look on her face made Son think he'd done something wrong, but he   
honestly didn`t know what.   
  
"I`m Kyabetsu, the first daughter of Bardock and Komugi, youngest sister of Kyuuri and Raditsu, and the eldest sister of Kakarotto." She recited carefully, then bowed   
deeply. "And if you don`t know who I am yet I`m going to be really mad."   
  
Son contemplated the speech. "You're my big sister?" he ventured finally.   
  
"Yep. That's me," she said, pleased.   
  
"You can't be my big sister," Son said, checking his logic as he went. "Because   
I`m grown up and you`re still little."   
  
"That's because I was little when I died."   
  
"Ah, you're dead then?"   
  
"I am." She said.   
  
"I get it," That made sense. "and this is one of the afterlives, right?"   
  
"Yeah, Lower Heaven."   
  
"Heaven, huh? I wouldn't think that many Saiya-jin went to Heaven." There was   
no spite or meanness in Son`s tone. It was an honest statement.   
  
"And you'd be right." Kyabetsu said unoffended. "Actually, there's only a handful   
of adult Saiya-jin here, but a couple thousand of us off-world brats made it in. 'Age of reason' or some such thing" Kyabetsu smiled sweetly; her eyes remained hard, and they did not reflect the smile. "How could Enma-sama condemn a cute little face like mine to the fires of Hell?" She laughed, and it was not a happy laugh. "We, my crew and I, were `misguided youths.' Supposedly too young to know right from wrong, so we get to come here and he sent R--" She shook her head briefly, angrily. "No. We're not going to talk about that, I`m not even going to think about that."   
  
"About what?"   
  
"About nothing."   
  
"Oh." There was an uncomfortable silence. "How many people have you killed?"   
That, as usual, popped out before Son thought to think about it.   
  
"I don`t know. Who keeps count?"   
  
"I do." Son said. And he did. He knew exactly how many people he had killed.   
Too many.   
  
Kyabetsu thought for a second "Hmm, Yasashisei, that's the planet me and my   
crew was sent to, was pretty small, even then we needed help with it. Half a million...   
maybe a few more."   
  
"That's a lot of people," Son said.   
  
"Not really. The planet you where assigned, what was it called?"   
  
"Earth."   
  
"Yeah, that's it. I remember hearing it was densely populated?"   
  
Son shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."   
  
"How many members were in your crew?"   
  
"My crew?"   
  
"Most of the time low level babies were sent off-world in groups. Crews."   
  
"I was by myself," Son answered. Most people would have wondered how the   
Earth had managed to dodge an even bigger bullet than previously thought. Son didn`t   
allow himself to be worried by such things. The Earth was fine.   
  
"Really? And you managed to stay alive? Wow!" She said with admiration. "That   
must have been tough."   
  
"No, not really." Son said honestly. Things had gone all right for him, especially   
considering.   
  
"I`ll bet the rest of your crews` ships got caught in Bejiitasei explosion. We all   
thought you were dead, until we died anyway."   
  
"I guess." A thought struck Son, he reached above his head, feeling for the golden   
halo that denoted both Heaven's and Hell's residents.   
  
"You're still alive." Kyabetsu assured him.   
  
"Then how did I get here?"   
  
"That's pretty complicated... Do you know what the Three Realms are?"   
  
Son shook his head. "Uh-uh."   
  
"All right. There's a Living Realm, a Dead Realm, and a Dream Realm, and a   
place where they all intersect - is that the right word?" Son didn`t know. "Umm... where   
they cross over each other. You can kinda slip in there when your asleep, sometimes."   
Son`s attention span, could be frustratingly short or doggedly long, depending on the   
topic of discussion, ran out, he started fidgeting, looking around. "Kakarotto?" Son didn`t seem to hear her. "Kakarotto!"   
  
"Yeah?" He said, not looking at her.   
  
"Are you listening?"   
  
"Yeah," Son lied.   
  
"People there can move, or be moved into any of the Three Realms. Most of the   
people in the Dead Realm keep half an eye on that place for living friends or relatives.   
We use this technique. It lets you see a place without actually being there. It`s one of the   
things they teach you after you die--the Heaven people anyway, the people in Hell aren't   
allowed to learn anything new. You were there, I just had to pull you here. Get it?"   
  
"Yeah." Son obviously had not gotten it and Kyabetsu had a feeling it would be a   
complete waste of limited time to explain it again. He, like most Saiya-jin, clearly didn`t   
care how something happened so long as it did happen. `Because' probably would have   
been a sufficient answer.   
  
"Is this what Bejiitasei looked like?" Son asked, still looking around.   
  
"No, I never got to see Bejiitasei, this is Yasashisei, or a recreation anyway.   
Bejiitasei was destroyed before my crew got back."   
  
"You weren't on Bejiitasei when it blew up? Then how did you die?" Kyabetsu   
paled slightly. "Oh, I guess you don`t want to talk about that. It's okay, dying isn't much   
fun."   
  
"You don`t have a clue." Actually, Son had a great deal of experience in that   
particular field. "But it's not that... I just--for a second there I thought I`d forgotten. It's   
been so long, it's all... fuzzy," Her face brightened a little. "I know! Lets go find Jagaimo.   
He never forgets anything!"   
  
"Who's Jagaimo?"   
  
"Jagaimo`s part of the crew I was assigned to. He's pretty much worthless, but he's better company than most of the jerks around here. I`ll bet I know where   
he is, too!" Kyabetsu started through the trees without looking to see if Son was following. Goku was used to the wilderness, he had lived in some of most obscure forest on earth most his life, but he had never seen such dense a jumble of vines and shrubs. An unholy number of them had nasty looking thorns. Although the thorns could never actually   
scratch Son`s skin, they tried their best. His clothing kept getting caught on the them and   
he had to stop to untangle himself. Kyabetsu waited impatiently for him to catch up.   
"Hurry up, Kakarotto!"   
  
"I`m coming. I`m coming!" Son gave up any hope of preserving his gi and forced   
his way to Kyabetsu. She was already moving on, weaving between the vines naturally.   
They went on like that for several minutes. After a few miles, the trees and creepers   
relented - slightly. A dark form hunkered under the shadows, it took Son several seconds   
to distinguish the shape for what it really was; a small cabin of sorts, with a slanted,   
unshingled roof, and walls made of logs with the bark still clinging to them.   
  
"Wait here." She left Son at the tree line and opened the door. "Hey, guys?"   
  
"Kyabetsu, is that you?" A small voice answered her.   
  
"Who else would it be. Where's Endomame?"   
  
"He said he was hungry. I think he went looking for a minion."   
  
Kyabetsu made a frustrated sound. "Did he say when he was getting back?"   
  
"Does he ever?"   
  
Kyabetsu let out a sigh that far surpassed her apparent age. She gestured for Son   
to come over to her. Son, due to a culture gap light years wide, took the hand motion to   
mean `stay put.' "Guess what? I found my brother."   
  
"Raditsu?" Son heard something moving around inside the cabin, a set of eyes   
peeked around the door frame. "Where?"   
  
"No. The other one, Kakarotto." Kyabetsu jerked her thumb over her shoulder,   
where she fully expected Son to be.   
  
"Where?" He repeated.   
  
Kyabetsu looked over her shoulder, Son wasn't there "Did he wake up already?"   
Kyabetsu said, alarmed. Her eyes darted to the tree line. Son was standing there, watching   
her. "For the Gods!" She waved Son over. "This is my little - " She looked up at   
Son. "My younger brother, Kakarotto." _That made even less sense,_ she thought to herself.   
  
Son waved uncertainty at the deep, guarded eyes. A pale hand ventured out from   
behind the door frame and returned Son`s greeting. "Get outta the way, Jagaimo. Come   
on, Kakarotto!" Kyabetsu said, pushing her way inside, while dragging Son.   
  
Son banged his head on the low door frame. "Ouch!" He said out of principle, his   
voice raising an octave. Kyabetsu apparently found this hilarious; Son could hear her   
laughing though the dark shadows that filled the shacks interior.   
  
"He sure doesn't act like Raditsu," Jagaimo whispered into Kyabetsu`s ear.   
  
"Don`t be stupid!" she hissed back.   
  
Son had to hunch over to keep from knocking against the ceiling again. The cabin   
consisted of one almost bare room. There were no windows; the only light came from a   
smoke hole in the ceiling. There was a pile of ashes, remnants from a previous fire,   
directly under it. Three beaten sets of armor occupied another corner, and three small   
mental boxes were stacked beside them.   
  
"Kakarotto isn't dead yet," Kyabetsu informed Jagaimo.   
  
"I know. He doesn't have a yellow thingy." Jagaimo pointed to his own halo.   
  
Kyabetsu pushed that theological observation aside. "You can remember all that   
stuff, right, before we died?"   
  
"That was a long time ago," Jagaimo said thoughtfully. "At least five years."   
  
"It's been longer than that, Kakarotto here was only a baby back then." She turned   
to Son. "How old are you Kakarotto?"   
  
No one on Earth was exactly sure how old he was. Goku gave them Son Gohan best guess. "About forty-nine."   
  
Kyabetsu forced air though her teeth and plopped down on the ground. "That's a   
long time."   
  
"Yeah," Jagaimo agreed. He dropped beside her, pulling his bony knees against   
his chest. Goku followed their lead. "We were all born--"   
  
"No kidding?" Kyabetsu said in mock surprise. "Don`t waste time, Kakarotto`s   
gonna tell me what he`s been doing with himself afterward." Goku hadn't been aware of   
that part of the deal, but it did seem fair. "Three of us low levels were sent to Yasashisei   
to depopulate it when we were still bab-"   
  
"That's wrong," Jagaimo said.   
  
"What?"   
  
"That's not right. Our crew started with five. Remember, Biitsu and Kabu."   
  
"Oh yeah, The Twins."   
  
"Right." He turned back to Son. "It took almost a year to get to the planet."   
  
"It was way out in the sticks," Kyabetsu added.   
  
"We separated. Endomame took one continent, Biitsu and Kabu took another and   
Kyabetsu got the last one. Then we just hung out till the full moon came out." A devilish   
grin covered the boy's face. "Those were great fights weren't they, Kyabetsu?" She   
returned his grin. It made Goku sad, hearing talk like that, and from a child no less.   
  
"We were all doing great for awhile." Was this his sister? Smiling that Saiya-jin   
smile while she talked about killing people? "Then they figured out we needed the moon   
and they blew it up. After that we were pretty much screwed. Biitsu and Kabu were in   
battle at the time. They were killed. Those two don`t come around here very often   
anymore. We sent messages saying we needed help to all our relatives, but `Ditsu was the   
only one who answered. Gods, did he pitch a fit. But at least he bothered to come."   
  
"Raditsu?" Goku asked uncertainly.   
  
Jagaimo misunderstood Goku`s question. "Yeah, Kyabetsu`s brother, your`s too I   
guess, but you know that."   
  
"No, he doesn't," Kyabetsu explained. "He hit his head when he was little. He   
can't remember anything about the Saiya-jin; Other than that, the brain damage doesn't   
seem too bad." Yeah, right.   
  
"Really? I mean you hear all kinds of horror stories about that - I always worried   
about that happening to my little brother," Jagaimo said.  
  
Son wiggled nervously, and shifted his eyes to the ground.   
  
"Jagaimo," Kyabetsu said with false friendliness, in a `I`m just trying to help you   
out' tone. "Do you remember what Raditsu said about you saying one thing too many?"   
She didn`t give him a chance to answer. "Kakarotto doesn't need his memories to know   
who he is." Kyabetsu scooted over till she was leaning against Son`s side, looking up   
into his eyes, completely at ease. "Do you, Kakarotto?"   
  
"Nope!" Son knew exactly who was. He had known long before Raditsu showed   
up at Kame Beach.   
  
"Anyway, it took Raditsu a while to get to Yasashisei. Jagaimo lift up your   
shirt." He did so. There was a long scar running from his shoulder to lower chest. "He   
managed to work up a pretty good infection in that--"   
  
"Like I did it on purpose!"   
  
Kyabetsu ignored Jagaimo`s protest "But Raditsu gave him some medicine and he   
got better."   
  
The color drained from Son`s face. "Shots?"   
  
"What?" Jagaimo said.   
  
"Did you have to get shots?"   
  
"Huh? I don`t remember - I think they were pills. Why?"   
  
"I don`t like shots."   
  
Jagaimo starred at Son with a raised eyebrow. "Are you sure about that brain   
damage thing, Kyabetsu?"   
  
Kyabetsu picked son`s hand up, studying the deep scars that ran along his   
knuckles. "Forget it. It doesn't matter."   
  
Jagaimo starred at the other Saiya-jin, vaguely confused by Kyabetsu`s strange   
behavior. He shifted his eyes to Son. Jagaimo didn`t think he looked upset, or even   
uncomfortable. Son caught his gaze. "What happened next?"   
  
"We depopulated Yasashisei and left for Bejiitasei, but before we got back we got   
a message that said Bejiitasei had been destroyed. `Lord Furiza' had, of course, raced to   
Bejiitasei when he heard such great misfortune had befallen his allies." Jagaimo spit out   
the side of his mouth. "And he was allowing any surviving Saiya-jin to regroup on his   
ship. Prince Bejiita and Nappa were off-world at the time, and their ships had been   
wrecked in the fighting. Raditsu was ordered to stop at one of Furiza`s bases, pick up two   
new ships and take them there. We went on ahead - stupid impatient little kids. But no   
one had any idea!"   
  
"Not a clue." Kyabetsu agreed "Raditsu said to be careful around Furiza--not to do   
or say anything that might make him mad, but he said that about a lot of people. Low   
levels had to be very careful about who they mouthed off to."   
  
"Everyone knew Furiza was paranoid, but King Bejiita thought the Saiya-jin could   
stay on his good side. King Bejiita was an idiot... but you don`t even know who Furiza   
is."   
  
"Yes, he does." Kyabetsu said before Son could answer. "Bardock saw him   
fighting Furiza. You're the one who killed that horned bastard; Aren't you Kakarotto?"   
  
"Uh-uh. Trunks killed him." Son answered truthfully.   
  
"Trunks?" Kyabetsu and Jagaimo said simultaneously.   
  
"Yeah, Bejiita`s son." The word `Bejiita,' plus `son,' combined with the easy,   
careless, `aren't we having nice weather today?,' tone of Son`s delivery, resulted in a   
rapid-fire interrogation consisting of the obvious questions. It was impossible to answer   
the bombardment. Kyabetsu and Jagaimo eventually realized this, and slowed their attack.   
  
"How do you know Bejiita?"   
  
"You said you were gonna tell me how you died first." Son said. He didn`t really   
want to get into that; it was ancient history; almost forgotten and long ago forgiven.   
  
"We landed on Furiza`s ship and his solders killed us right after we left our ships.   
Killing three low level brats isn`t particularly difficult," Kyabetsu finished in one breath.   
"Now tell us how you know the Prince!"   
  
"I've know him for a while, he lives with Buruma - sometimes anyway - at   
Capsule Corp."   
  
"And where is Capsule Corp. and who is Buruma?" Jagaimo said.   
  
"Well, Capsule Corp. is on Earth and Buruma`s one of my old friends, and   
Bejiita`s wife. Sort of."   
  
Kyabetsu was wading thought that muddle of apparent nonsense when they heard   
someone approaching. Most animals and no human would have heard the soft foot falls,   
but they were Saiya-jin.   
  
Kyabetsu moved to the back of the cabin and Jagaimo scrambled for the corner by   
the door.   
  
"What-" Son began.   
  
"Shut up and didn`t move!" Kyabetsu whispered. "He'll hear you!"   
  
The footsteps had become slower, more cautious. The door swung opened, creacking lowly on its leather hinges, but there was no one behind it. Then something sprang from the brush and charged though the opened door. Kyabetsu went forward to meet the attacker. At the same time, Jagaimo pounced on the newcomer`s shoulders, and tried to help Kyabetsu pull him to the ground. It didn`t work. The new comer pulled Jagaimo off his neck and slammed him to the ground. Kyabetsu followed quickly. He pinned them to the ground, one hand between the shoulder blades of each opponent.   
  
"I win," he said. "Big surprise. Give up?"   
  
"Gi-" Jagaimo began.   
  
"Shut up, Jagaimo!" Kyabetsu said. "Hey, Kakarotto! Little help?"   
  
Son picked the boy up my his shirt collar. "What the hell?" He craned his neck,   
trying to see who had him.   
  
"You shouldn't pick on people who are weaker than you." Son said.   
  
"I resent that." Kyabetsu said, returning to her feet. "We were just playing   
anyway, Kakarotto."   
  
It occurred to the boy that he could just slide out of his shirt. He did so, and took a   
defensive stance in front of his crew. Son saw his arms, back and chest were covered with   
scars similar to Jagaimo`s.   
  
Endomame was much bigger than the other members of his crew. A nasty scar ran   
from the top of his skull to his upper lip, broke than started again at his bottom lip and   
down his chin. He stopped short when he saw Son. His face darken. "What the hell is   
Bardock doing here?"   
  
"He's not Bardock. Why would Bardock want to come here? How would Bardock come here? Hey," She said addressing Son. "What's two an two?"   
  
"Four." Son answered quickly.   
  
"See, he's much smarter than Bardock."   
  
"But who is he?"   
  
"My little brother."   
  
"Your little brother?"   
  
"Bite me."   
  
Endomame accepted this as matter of course while talking to Kyabetsu. "What's   
your name?"   
  
"Son Goku." Goku said, without thinking.   
  
"Son Goku?" Endomame repeated, looking to Kyabetsu for clarification.   
  
Kyabetsu`s tail began to twitch. "Kakarotto?"   
  
"Yeah?" Goku said.   
  
"What's Son Goku?"   
  
"Me," Goku said simply, making no effort to hide the facts.   
  
"What?"   
  
"My name is Son Goku. I don`t really mind being called Kakarotto." He added   
helpfully. "But I've always been Goku."   
  
Kyabetsu stared at Son with a mixture of confusion, anger and something   
dangerously close to disdain. "Son Goku."   
  
"Son Goku."   
  
"That's really screwed up, Kakarotto." She laughed playfully, but it also carried a   
cruel, mocking undertone.   
  
"You're not mad at me?"   
  
"Hell yeah, I`m mad. But if you're going to act like an idiot there's nothing I can do about it, is there?"   
  
"No," Son said. "There isn't."   
  
"All right, then shut up about it." Kyabetsu ran her finger along the scars that   
graced Son`s battle-worn knuckles. "Looks like you got into some pretty respectable   
fights, where have you been living?"   
  
"Earth."   
  
"You`re still on that backwoods rock? How long did it take you to depopulate it?"   
  
"Depopulate?"   
  
"You know, kill off all the natives."   
  
He pulled his hand out of Kyabetsu`s. She looked up surprised and a little frightened. Son was going to straighten this out right now. "I have never purposely killed any innocent or helpless person and I don`t know how anyone could enjoy killing or even stand the guilt of all that blood on their ki." Kyabetsu glared back at her brother, emotions bouncing in-between shock and rage. Her tail lashed violently. Both refused to be stared down.   
  
Jagaimo broke the silence. He said something in a language Goku had never heard   
before. "Raditsu would've killed him for saying something like that." Endomame burst into laughter, Kyabetsu looked to Jagaimo, and cracked a smiled in spite of herself. Raditsu   
had been great. Son wondered what they were talking about. Jagaimo addressed Kyabetsu   
much more seriously. "Maybe you should cut him some slack, Kyabetsu. Other than   
Bejiita he's the only one left, and he is your bro--"   
  
She spit out the side of her mouth then said something nasty in the same alien   
tongue. "I`ll tell you what he is. He's a damn traitor! He didn`t even do his planet. And   
where's his tail? The people on that planet supposedly look like Saiya-jin without tails.   
I`ll bet he's been pretending to be one of those miserable creatures!"   
  
Jagaimo waited for her to finish, then replied at length. "So what? No one ever   
came to take him home. There isn't a home anymore. He didn`t clear his planet. So what?   
Maybe he'll come here instead of Hell. Just forget about it. What ever he`s been doing   
Bejiita has been doing too, so it can't be bad. Right? Change the subject." He kept his   
eyes in his lap and his voice low, so it seemed to Son that the boy was growling under his   
breath rather than speaking. Kyabetsu said something back and Jagaimo shrugged.   
  
"You got any brats?" Kyabetsu said, trying to turn the subject in a safer direction.   
  
"Yeah!" Son said, happy to oblige "I've got two sons, Gohan and Goten." Son   
said with pride. "You know what else? They`re both Super Saiya-jin, too."   
  
"What?" Kyabetsu said, astounded by such a level of stupidity.   
  
"Huh," Jagaimo said. "Are you saying your son is the Super Saiya-jin?"   
  
"No, both of them," Son said. Endomame covered his mouth, the sound of his snickering could be hear escaping between his fingers. "We're all Super Saiya-jins. Bejiita says there was a garage sale on it."   
  
"Kakarotto, what do you think a Super Saiya-jin is?" Jagaimo spoke to Son like   
he was a young child. Goku picked up on this condescending tone immediately; anyone   
smart enough to feed himself would have. It made Son angry.   
  
"I know what a Super Saiya-jin is. I am one."   
  
Endomame had quit laughing. "Bullshit," he said softly, but not so faintly that   
Son couldn't hear him.   
  
"The Super Saiya-jin isn't in our line Kakarotto," Kyabetsu made it clear she   
thought he was making it up.   
  
"And why would I lie about it?"   
  
Jagaimo tried to circumvent the argument. "She didn`t mean you were lying   
Kakarotto. Just maybe your a little confused."   
  
"No," Kyabetsu said. "I meant he was lying."   
  
"No, I`m not."   
  
Kyabetsu jumped to her feet, tail thrashing. "I think you are!"   
  
Son stood, fist chuckled, wondering how to get back to his house. "I`m not lying."   
  
"Are too!"   
  
Endomame starred at the show, faintly amused. "I`ve seen this before," he   
said flatly to Jagaimo.   
  
Jagaimo closed his eyes and massaged his temple like he had a head ache.   
Endomame`s right, he thought. This was nothing new. Next, he knew Kyabetsu would   
ether start pouting, (not crying of course, Saiya-jin never cried) a tactic manufactured to make her opponent uncomfortable and hopefully guilty, or she would hit her brother. If Kyabetsu choose the latter, and if this 'Goku' guy`s reactions were comparable to his older brother, he would; A) Hit back if he felt he had control; B) Simply laugh at Kyabetsu. Or if he was truly enraged he would; C) Disappear until his anger had cooled enough for him to be around Kyabetsu without killing her. Once, Jagaimo remembered, Raditsu had been gone so long there had been some doubt as to whether he was still alive. But Jagaimo didn`t think Goku`s reaction to Kyabetsu`s antics could really be compared to that of a normal Saiya Jin like Raditsu.   
  
"You are!"   
  
"Are not!"   
  
Kyabetsu threw her arms up in frustration. "Idiot!"   
  
Son hadn't intended to power up. He didn`t need to prove himself to anyone,   
especial a murdering Saiya-jin. That Kyabetsu was his sister meant only he held her to a   
higher standard than other Saiya-jin, Bejiita, for example. He changed into Super   
Saiya-jin without pausing to contemplate the consequences. The shack filled with dust   
from the dirt floor; it bought tears to the eyes of the younger-older Saiya-jin. Jagaimo and   
Endomame, both sitting on the floor, began coughing violently. Kyabetsu stepped   
backward, shielding her eyes from the bright, golden light Son was giving off. She   
stumbled, and landed on the ground by Son`s feet. He stepped back, concerned her   
comparably fragile form would be burned by the pure energy that surround him. Kyabetsu   
looked up at Goku, concern and guilt now shown in his green eyes. Son forced the energy   
down surveying the mess he`d made, hoping one was hurt; though when he thought about it that idea seemed rather absurd, considering the circumstances. (it was hard to hurt a dead person)  
  
  
"Sorry `bout that. Everybody okay?" Feeling at fault for Kyabetsu`s tumble, he   
offered her his hand. She contemplated the hand for a few seconds, then stood under her   
own power. Son looked slightly put out and it occurred to Kyabetsu that he had meant to   
help her up.   
  
"It`s all right, Kakarotto, we're fine." She stared at him for a full minute. Then   
without taking her eyes off Goku: "The Super Saiya-jin`s hair turns yellow, his eyes turn   
green and his energy turns golden. Right?"   
  
"Yeah," Jagaimo said. "That's what Raditsu said the Super Saiya-jin was   
supposed to look like."   
  
"Then Kakarotto`s the Super Saiya-jin?"   
  
"Looks that way." Jagaimo responded   
  
"Well," Kyabetsu said, struggling to think coherently. "That's pretty okay." She   
turned to Son. "Kakarotto are you the Super Saiya-jin?"   
  
Son fell over. "That's what I've been saying for the last ten minutes!"   
  
"Where'd you find someone to train under on such a weak planet? Most vermin don`t even train, they just make guns and other dumb stuff," Kyabetsu said.   
  
"I've trained under several great masters," Son said, singing their praises rather   
than his own. "Muten Roshi-sensei, Kami-sama, and Kaio-sama."   
  
"How'd you train under a Kaio?" Jagaimo asked. "I thought you where alive?"   
  
"I was dead when I train with Kaio-sama."   
  
"Kakarotto," Kyabetsu said. "I keep thinking, I say to my self, the next thing   
Kakaroto says will make sense, but it doesn't. It doesn't."   
  
Son didn`t think the concept was that difficult. He had been dead before and now   
he was alive. It was all very clear cut and simple, but he explained the dragon balls to her   
very slowly. It seemed to Son that maybe his sister wasn't the brightest penny in the   
fountain, but it was okay, Son didn`t hold it against her. Actually Son held very little   
against very few people.   
  
"You where in Upper Heaven and you left?" Son nodded. "If I were you I would   
have quit when I was ahead." Kyabetsu laughed. "Enma wouldn't let us in here again,   
would he, guys?" Jagaimo grinned and Endomame chuckled.   
  
"Why not?" Son said, not following.   
  
They exchanged devilish grins. "You would be surprised how much hell four little   
angels can raise if they really put their minds to it." Jagaimo tugged on his halo, it   
stretched like a rubber band but reminded suspended above his head.   
  
Endomame said something to Jagaimo in the language they'd been using earlier.   
  
"I don`t know, why don`t you ask him yourself?" Jagaimo suggested. "He wants   
to know if you can wish Raditsu out of hell in to lower heaven but he's embarrassed to   
ask or something like that so I`m supposed to." Jagaimo turned back to Endomame.   
"There. I asked him. You happy now?" Endomame glared at Jagaimo then lowered his   
eyes when he saw Goku was looking at him curiously.   
  
"Raditsu`s in hell, huh?" Son said. "No big surprise. Enma did say that, but I didn`t think -"   
  
Kyabetsu cut him off. Her calm, even voice suggested something dangerous below   
its surface. `No big surprise?' Where do you off talking about Raditsu like that? What do   
you know, two hours ago you didn`t even know you had a brother."   
  
"I didn`t mean... I knew Raditsu. We--" Son stopped short. What had he almost said? Son shook   
his head, trying to clear the fog that had settle in his brain. He didn`t intend to lie about   
the little argument he had with Raditsu but he didn`t want to bring it up either. He wasn't   
sure if he like Kyabetsu but he didn`t want to write her off, or for her to hate him. Son   
hadn't been at fault for his brother's death, he had even let Raditsu go the first time, but   
Kyabetsu wasn't going to accept any excuses, and she was bound to find out at some   
point. Son very rarely held grudges. It was typical for Son offer an olive branch to   
vanquished enemies and it often, if not always bore fruit. "I`ll make that wish if you want   
me to."   
  
"Why would you do that?" Kyabetsu said distrustfully.   
  
Son tried to smile. He felt funny. "Might as well wish for something."   
  
"That`s shit." Kyabetsu said. Raditsu was gone. He wasn't coming back this time.   
Ever. Therefore Kakarotto was joking or teasing or lying.   
  
"What? You don`t want me to?" Son asked.   
  
Kyabetsu laughed, there wasn't a shard of humor in it. "You're joking."   
  
"No, I don`t think..." Son trailed off. "What was I saying?" He squeeze his eyes   
shut, trying to gather his thoughts.   
  
"What's wrong with him, Kyabetsu?" Jagaimo said nervously. Kyabetsu hissed at   
him to be quiet.   
  
Son opened his eyes. The room was swimming and he felt sick to his stomach.   
Son tried to stand, Kyabetsu was at his shoulder in an instant, pushing him back to the   
ground. "Don`t move Kakarotto - maybe you won't wake up yet," She hissed in his ear,   
knowing nothing either of them did would help. "Do that wish thing when you wake up,   
Okay?"   
  
Son tried to smile and nodded. "Sure." His form faded under Kyabetsu`s hand and   
he fell into darkness.   
  



	2. The Dragon

  
  
  
  
  
_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"The toes you step on today may well belong to the ass you kiss  
tomorrow." Dixie Chics  
  
...it is only death which is hopeless. ~ Maria McIntosh  
  
The dead have nothing except the memory they've left. ~ Ferenc Moln r  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
_   
**Chapter Two  
**   
  
Son hadn't intentionally hidden anything. He had woken up in their bed, to find Chichi already awake and gone. He had gotten dressed and gone to the kitchen, fully intending to tell his wife and youngest son that he was going to call the dragon.   
  
He glanced into the living room at the clock that sat on their mantel. It read nine   
fourteen. He'd overslept. That was strange. Normally Goku was up with the sun, but then, he'd been busy for most of the night. What was really amazing was that Chichi let him sleep in at all. Goten had left for school almost two hours ago. There was a note from   
Chichi on the fridge door, (she was well aware her husband would make a beeline for the   
most available source of food) that said she had gone to town and would be home before   
five. Son didn`t want to wait that long. It wasn't that he was inconsiderate, at least on   
purpose; just impatient.  
  
Son had had to gather five of the dragonballs before he found his grandfather's   
four star ball, so most of the work was already done. Four were in a bag along with a   
dragon radar in their dresser. Son Gohan`s Dragonball was sitting on the mantel. He took   
them and left the house.  
  
  
_____________________________  
  
  
Only a few hours later Son knelt, hands and knees on the frozen ground of the   
northern-most continent, thawing the last dagonball from ice that had already beginning   
to melt on its own in the early spring warmth. Vast tundra spread to the edge of the   
horizon. Far to the north, snowcapped mountains that remained frozen thoughout the   
year; to the south, endless taiga, the most ancient and untouched forest on Earth; to the east and west, more of the same barren tundra, where very little but grass and stunted willows grew and there was nothing to block the frigid winter winds. The ball came lose. He took the other six from the bag and laid them on the ground.  
  
"Hey, Shenron!"  
  
There was a brilliant flash as the Dragon God emerged from the seven orbs like   
smoke from a stick of incense. His long, snaking body literally blocked out the sun.  
  
"Reflect upon your mortal desires, for I will grant any two wishes within my   
power." Shenlon`s voice reverberated across the plains. When he spoke, the ground shook   
and small pebbles bounced and jumped.  
  
Son had put a lot of thought over the past few hours into exactly what he wanted   
to ask the Dragon for. He figured it would take both wishes. One to get Raditsu out of   
Hell and one to move him into Lower Heaven. Son didn`t contemplate the theological   
aspects of these wishes; his mind didn`t work that way, nor did it occur to him that   
Enma could have Raditsu back in Hell within the hour. Angering Son was a task in itself;   
few people had enjoyed Raditsu`s level of success. He had made Son very, very angry,   
but Son wasn't really capable of sustained hate, so he'd make the wishes. Why not? Well, Kyabetsu probably wouldn't want anything to do with him after she found out   
how their brother had died, but she'd find out anyway. Goku wasn't good at deceit. His   
tongue was a traitor that tattled on him without fail at the most inopportune times. It was   
not Son`s fault Raditsu had died. Son had been more than willing to let him go. Raditsu   
had brought everything down on his own head, but Son wasn't going to hold a grudge   
forever. The wishes wouldn't hurt anything; it wasn't like he was bringing Raditsu back   
to life.  
  
"Can you take my brother, Raditsu, out of Hell?"  
  
The Dragon contemplated the request for a few seconds. "I can not gra--" Shenlon   
paused, looking inward at things far away. He had found a loop hole in the bureaucracy   
that dictated everything outside the Living Realm. Everything there was arbitrary, but   
strict rules gave order to everything in the other two. It wasn't what Son had in mind, but   
by now he should know to be specific. All he'd said was to take Raditsu out of Hell.   
"Your first wish has been granted. What is your second?"  
  
"Really?" Son had been afraid it wouldn't work. "Thanks!"  
  
"What is your second wish?"  
  
"Okay, now make him one of Heaven's people."  
  
"I cannot grant that wish," the Dragon said immediately.  
  
"What! Why not?"  
  
"A living person cannot become a citizen of Heaven."  
  
"But Raditsu`s not alive!" This was potentially bad. Raditsu had been dangerous.   
That might not be true anymore; over the last twenty-five odd years, a combat level of   
1,500 had become pocket change. But who knew? What if he had gotten stronger? "How   
can Raditsu be alive?"  
  
"Restoring his life was necessary to remove him from Hell."  
  
Son had long since passed confused. "I thought you couldn't resurrect people who   
have been dead for more than a year? You said that!"  
  
Shenlon heaved a rumbling sigh that was almost comical in the burden it carried.   
"I didn`t resurrect him."  
  
Son cocked his head. "That doesn't make any sense! Raditsu was dead and now   
he`s alive but you didn`t bring him back to life?"  
  
"What is your second wish?"  
  
"I don`t know!" Son said. "I still don`t know why he's alive," he grumbled. He   
sat down and thought for a few minutes, while the dragon grew steadily more impatient.   
"I guess you just can't put him back in Hell?"  
  
"Killing is outside my power."  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't want you to kill anyone. Killing people is wrong." Son tapped his   
temple, thinking. "I guess you should bring him here?" He stood. "Yeah, bring him here."  
  
"Your wish has been granted. Fare you well." Shenlon returned to the Dragonballs   
and they shot off to every corner of the Earth.  
  
There was a lag of four seconds and only four seconds, but in those four seconds   
Son managed to convince himself that he had screwed up the second wish too.  
  
Then Raditsu appeared.  
  
  
_____________________________  
  
  
Had he really been worried that Raditsu would be more powerful than him? What,   
exactly, had he expected? The same frightening stranger that seemed to possess boundless   
self-confidence and impossible power? Goku didn`t know. But he hadn't expected this.  
  
This man was not Raditsu. Couldn't be Raditsu. Not that appearance wise he was   
that much different. He looked, well, not any older -- used up. Tried, maybe. His power   
level was the same; it seemed like -- was -- so little now. Instead of armor, he wore a   
ridiculous bright orange jumpsuit made of some coarse material.  
  
  
But that wasn't it. It wasn't his clothing, or his age or complexion. It was   
something deeper than that. Something was lacking. This had to be Raditsu. But Raditsu   
was imposing, proud and incredibly powerful. This man had fallen to his knees and didn`t   
move, didn`t even seem to be alive. Son thought for a second that he was dead, that he   
had wished a corpse back and nothing else. Then Raditsu`s chest begin to rise and fall in   
ragged breathing. No, this was wasn't Raditsu, it might have been before; but not now.  
  
"Raditsu?" Son, hoping to be helpful, laid a hand on his shoulder. Raditsu came   
alive. He pulled away like Son`s hand burned, and countered with an instinctive blow.   
Son caught his arm easily at the wrist. "No!" He pull Raditsu to his feet. "No hitting. No   
punching. No fighting. I`m stronger. You got that?"  
  
"Kakarotto?" Raditsu tried to pull away, couldn't, aimed another punch, this one   
deliberately (or as deliberate as someone in his current state of mind was capable of) at   
Son`s face. Son let this one hit him. It didn`t hurt, and it proved his point better than   
words ever could. The effect on Raditsu`s knuckles was similar to that of a normal man's   
hitting a brick wall. Son was much harder than a brick wall. Son felt a tendril of blood   
drip down his face. He dropped Raditsu`s arm and wiped it off his cheek. There was a   
blue-purple discoloration forming around Raditsu`s wrist and his hand was bleeding.  
  
"Sorry `bout that." Son said, pointing to the bruise. He offered no apology for   
the knuckles. "Raditsu?"  
  
"Kakarotto," Raditsu said. Underneath shock and confusion, disdain was clawing   
its way out of a shallow grave.  
  
"Yeah. That's right."  
  
Raditsu looked across the tundra at the distant mountains, at the sky then the   
ground. Not at Son. "This is Earth."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Raditsu didn`t say or do anything for what seemed to Son to be a very long time.   
Then: "How?"  
  
Son laughed nervously. "I`m not really sure. You are alive again, I think. But   
`how?' I don`t know." Son thought for a second. "You don`t know, do you?"  
  
The fog was beginning to clear from Raditsu`s mind. He tried to piece the situation   
together, found it didn`t make any sense. Raditsu hated it when things didn`t make sense.   
In fact, excluding traitors, nothing made him angrier. "No. I don`t know."  
  
Son studied Raditsu. He wasn't a real threat anymore. He could conceivably kill   
someone, but such behavior could be discontinued permanently and easily if necessary.   
Goku figured he was at least 1,000 times stronger than his big brother. He was way off; it   
was closer to 65,000. "Well, c`mon. Let's go."  
  
"Where?" Raditsu said. He didn`t like the way his voice sounded. Hoarse, like   
he'd been screaming (had he?) and frightened, quavering.  
  
"To my house, I guess. Where else?"  
  
"I`m not going anywhere with you." There. That sounded better. Like he was   
in control. Wrong; it sounded much worse.  
  
Son walked closer to his brother. Raditsu`s tail curled itself around his waist   
protectively. Son had to crane his neck to look Raditsu in the eyes, but he'd been looked   
down on from below by Bejiita enough times to be able to approximate the effect.  
  
"Fine," he said. "Do whatever you want. But you need to understand something   
first. I`m much stronger than you now. If you hurt anyone I`ll find out." He didn`t know   
how he would do this (Son wasn't familiar with the nightly news) so he didn`t say. "And   
I`ll kill you. I don`t care if it`s wrong. I won't let anything hurt the people here ever   
again." Raditsu brushed Goku`s words off and tried to walk around him. Son   
dematerialized and reappeared in front of him. "What? You think I`m joking?"  
  
He tried to pass again. Son wouldn't let him. "Leave me alone." Softly. Not a   
growl or whimper. Not an order or plea. Monotone.  
  
"Promise you won't kill anybody and I will."  
  
"You really don`t have any long term memory at all, do you?" Raditsu said with   
real wonder.  
  
"Raditsu!"  
  
"Fine! Sure! Move!" Raditsu tried to push passed Son. Son let him by this   
time.  
  
"I`m going to go and try to figure all this out now." He put two fingers to his   
forehead and focused on Kyabetsu`s ki. "Shunkanido." And disappeared.  
  
  
_____________________________  
  
He stared at the space Son had previously occupied; dismissed it as one of the   
less impossible things that had happened in the last twenty minutes.  
  
Raditsu began walking, trying to sort things out. After what felt like an hour but   
could have been any measure of time, the tundra gave over to woodland. Huge trees,   
bigger than any he had ever seen, surrounded him, the lowest branches placed hundreds   
of feet above his head. Though their leaves had only begun to open, they blocked out   
most of the sun's light. Raditsu`s didn`t mind in the least.   
  
He came to a sudden realization about two things. One, he was again dealing with   
physical limitations, and two, he was very, very tried. He slumped to the ground and,   
leaning against a tree, fell asleep.  
  
  



	3. In Hades

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." ~ Eleanor Roosevelt  
  
"The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are   
at the right or wrong end of the gun." ~ P. G., Wodehouse  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
** Chapter Three  
**   
  
The ball slipped through his hands. Endomame went into a nose-dive, tail and hair steaming behind him like a comet as he spun toward the ground. He caught the shiny silver sphere seconds before they both hit the ground. Endomame arced back up to the pale green sky and met Kyabetsu, ball in hand.   
  
"You think it's going to work?" He lobbed the ball back to her.  
  
They`d been through this over and over again; Kyabetsu was sick to death of it. It wasn't that she didn`t care; nothing could be further from the truth. She wanted Raditsu back with them more than anything, but she had no control over the situation. Antagonizing never helped, it never changed anything.   
  
"I don`t know." She caught the ball, and sent it back.  
  
Jagaimo was alone on the ground. He couldn't keep up with that kind of training and it was embarrassing to try. It wasn't his size, that had almost nothing to do with power; he was a genetic deficient. Power was the most important, that was a given; he didn`t have it, and never would. Still, he wasn't completely worthless. Instead of wasting his time trying to build muscle that won't be forthcoming, he honed less common skills. Psychic attacks were looked down on by most Saiya-jin, but he didn`t care. They'd hate him anyway. People as weak as him, Jagaimo knew, didn`t deserve to exist. The other Saiya-jin were in Hell anyway; what they thought now didn`t matter.   
  
He was sitting, cross-legged, infont a ring of small pebbles, each about the size of a marble. He stared at them, focussing his will toward them. They lifted off the ground, forming any pattern he wanted. An object's weight or size barely mattered; on the other hand, keeping several small objects in sync took a great deal of skill and practice. He was doing a lot better now. A guilty little thought sneaked up on him; If he'd been this good when they were on Furiza`s ship, maybe they wouldn't have died. He pushed it away; done was done. He wanted Raditsu to see how much he'd improved. Not that there'd be any praise involved, and that was perfectly all right. A glimmer of interest or pride in his role model's eye was all he wanted.  
  
"He'd be here by now, if he was coming, don`t you think?" Endomame pressed.  
  
"How the hell should I know?" Kyabetsu said, voice rising with annoyance. She brought it down to a civil level. "Just shut up about it, all right?"  
  
Endomame tried, but after a few minutes the anxiety got to him. "What do you think, Jagaimo?" He called down. Jagaimo pretended not to hear Endomame, that always made the musile-head mad. "Hey, Jagaimo! Jagaimo!" _So the little wimp is going to ignore me, huh?_ Endomame thought. "Jagaimo, catch!" He aimed the ball at Jagaimo`s down-turned head and threw it as hard as he could.  
  
He thought, for a nervous second, that it would actually hit Jagaimo. After years of not having to worry about mortally wounding their comrades, the Saiya-jins` play had steadily gotten rougher losing much of its former reserve. Though never deliberately, they'd all managed to 'kill' each other a few times. It was inconvenient but not permanent. Only soul-death lasted forever; they weren`t strong enough to do that kind of damage to another soul. Jagaimo`s body would disappear and the little white cloud that was his soul would be whisked away. He'd come back a few days later, good as new. Still, Endomame would catch hell from Kyabetsu if he brained the little twit.  
  
Jagaimo stopped the ball inches from the cap of his skull. He deigned to look up at Endomame, a large, sarcastic grin covering his face. Kyabetsu clapped her hands and laughed. Jagaimo, taking full advantage of this moment of glory, willed the pebbles into the shape of a stick figure, using the ball as its head. The little man bowed with great flourish, the picture of a skilled showman. Endomame repaid the performance with a certain hand gesture known throughout the universe by children of questionable upbringing.  
  
"Cheater!"  
  
"Oh, no. Oh no, no, no. That wasn't cheating," Jagaimo assured him. "Now if I was to do something like this..." the ball left the little man, who crumbled and fell to the ground as though he'd been guillotined, and rocketed toward Endomame. "Then I`d be cheating."   
  
Endomame contemplated catching the ball, then prudentially dodged. Jagaimo lost his mental hold on the ball, and it flew off into the jungle, ripping through tree trunks and deadfall.  
  
"Great, Jagaimo," Kyabetsu said. "Now go find it."  
  
"Sure," Jagaimo said; he jumped to his feet and headed for the jungle. He spotted the ball embedded in a tree trunk, some fifty-feet above his head. He shimmied up trunk and pulled the ball out. Part of its shell, he knew, could be lifted, thus revealing two triangular buttons. If you pushed one, the ball got lighter, the other, the ball got heavier. It was set way up there, at least eighty pounds, by Jagaimo`s guess. He dropped the ball, and using the most rudimentary psychic technique, made it float. He started back, walking along the branches toward the others, the ball following like a loyal puppy.  
  
He heard a twig crack to his left, froze, breath stopping in his throat_. They weren't supposed to be able to get here, they weren't-- _Whoever was moving below Jagaimo began to mumble frustratedly. Jagaimo`s chest loosen and he chouched of a laugh. It wasn't anything dangerous, none of the millions of people who'd been slaughtered by the Saiya-jin and wanted to get even. Still cautious, (he knew he was right, but the consequence for a mistake would be less than pleasant) he crawled to the edge of the branches and looked out. His worried scowl turned to a grin when he saw the minion. He'd been right, it was just one of Enma Dai-Ou`s messengers, trying to transverse the thick brush, (with very little success) no doubt delivering a summons._ This is going to be fun._  
  
The minion's horn-rimmed glasses were askew; his hair, which had been parted and gelled neatly around the unicorn-like horn that covered most of his skullcap, was now out of place and limp with sweat. His bulbous head, topped by a horn that faintly resembled a closed umbrella, made his pencil thin neck look sadly insufficient. Two dark half moons were forming under the armpits of his now tattered two-piece suit.  
  
These guys weren't much taste-wise, but they were great for laughs. Jagaimo slipped away. After all, he shouldn't hog all the fun.  
  
_____________________________  
  
"Hey, you guys! You guys know what?" Jagaimo called when he came within shouting distance of his friends. Kyabetsu and Endomame landed, then waited impatiently, arms crossed, for him to reach them. "Still pissed, huh?" He said when he saw Kyabetsu`s scowling face. "He started it, you know."  
  
"Where's my ball?" Kyabetsu demanded.  
  
"Here." Jagaimo willed the ball to Kyabetsu. She snatched it out of the air, fiddled with it's buttons, and shoved it into her pocket. "What do you have it set on, anyway?"  
  
"One-twenty."  
  
"That much?" Jagaimo rememberd his original gospel. "Oh yeah! You guys know what? One of Enma`s bootlickers is coming." The contagious grins spread.  
  
"What`d you do this time, Endomame?" Kyabetsu said.  
  
"Nothing." He said, thinking hard. "I don`t think?"  
  
Kyabetsu turned to Jagaimo. "Don`t look at me like that!" He said. "It wasn't me this time!"  
  
"I did pee on Enma`s car." Endomame said thoughtfully. "The tire, I mean. You can't reach the actual car without using Bukujutsu, and then everyone look's at you funny. But I don`t think he noticed cause that was almost a week ago."  
  
"Endomame," Kyabetsu said. "Is there anything in all the Afterlives that you haven't pissed on?"  
  
"Well yeah, but I figure I've got plenty of time. There he is." Endomame pointed at the minion, who had just emerged from the tree line.  
  
Tegami had thought being promoted from guide to messenger would be a big step forward for his career, but instead of driving pleasant people around the Afterlives, he got to deal with trouble-makers like these Saiya-jin. Enma Dai-Ousama must have been in a very good mood on the day he let them into Heaven. The little beasts killed every messenger that was sent to them; that was how he'd gotten the job. Dying was annoying; the old messenger had gotten sick of it and quit. Tegami had had plans for the weekend; now because of the Saiya-jin he'd have to spend it being reborn.  
  
This one's new." Endomame said speculatively, when the minion came within earshot.  
  
"You think he'll taste any better than the old one?" Kyabetsu responded.  
  
"I don`t know. He looks kinda stringy. What do you think, Jagaimo?"  
  
"I think maybe you don`t know nothing about anything until you try," Jagaimo said.  
  
"That's good advice," Kyabetsu said gravely.  
  
"Well, if he's any nastier than the old one I`m going to find something else to eat," Endomame said, letting the scowl leave his countenance long enough to make a face. "But I do have a new technique I've been wanting to try out."  
  
"All right then," Kyabetsu said. "So try it out."  
  
"It takes a while to charge."  
  
"Just hurry up." Kyabetsu turned to the minion. "Guess I've got time. What do you want?"  
  
"Kyabetsu, right?" he said. Not that he needed to ask. Her name, like those of her friends, proceeded her; this was not considered a positive thing. " Lord Enma Dai-Ou requires your presence in his office immediately."  
  
"Then he can come here. He's not Saiya-jin and he's not my blood. I don`t have to listen to him."  
  
Tegami ignored this foolish and utterly wrong statement. She was Saiya-jin, what more could be expected of those sadists? "It is in regards to your brother."  
  
Kyabetsu`s interest perked. "What? Which one?"  
  
Tegami took a day planner from his pocket and began to fumble though the pages.  
  
"Ready, Kyabetsu!" She looked over to Endomame. He had a five segmented ball of energy on his palm. "My Goaku-Tama."   
  
"Not bad," Kyabetsu said, "but hold off a sec."  
  
"You can't keep that together for very long, can you?" Jagaimo asked Endomame. Softly, so Kyabetsu wouldn't hear.  
  
"So what? You can't even make one."  
  
"We're talking about you, not me." Jagaimo said, less than willing to let the conversation turn that way.  
  
"Maybe I`ll throw it at you instead of the minion."  
  
"It's shrinking."  
  
"What?" The Goaku-Tama was getting smaller, the energy he'd pulled up, dispersing. "Oh, thanks. Kyabetsu, what's the hold up?"  
  
"Just wait, this might be important." Kyabetsu said.  
  
"I`ll bet Enma just wants to yell at us again." Endomame said. He gave up on the energy balls, and extinguished them.  
  
"He says it's about my brother."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"Don`t know. This minion's incompetent, he can't find the page."  
  
"Let me see." Jagaimo said. The book floated out of Tegami`s hands and toward Jagaimo.  
  
"Hey!" Tegami squawked and grabbed the planer back. What followed was a brief tug of war in which Jagaimo came out on top without ever getting rope burns. But it was all in vain; no sooner had Jagaimo`s hands closed around the book than Endomame snatched it from him.  
  
"Too slooow." Endomame said chuckling. He turned his attention to the book, flipping through the pages randomly. It was only by chance that he found the correct one so quickly. His laugher died. "It says both of them. Raditsu and..." He read the strange name over twice before sounding it out loud. "Soon Go-ko" He made the connection. "Son Goku. What the hell's wrong with that guy?"   
  
"Who cares?" Kyabetsu said. "He's the super Saiya-jin."  
  
"We're going, then?"  
  
Kyabetsu nodded and headed in the direction that would lead outside their  
re-creation of Yasashisei, to the airport that sent flights back and forth from Hades and Heaven hourly, and ultimately to the ancient palace where Enma Dai-Ou kept his office.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey!" Endomame said, walking backwards in front of her. "What`s the hurry? Let's make the bastard wait."  
  
"I want to find out now. Come with me, all right?" It was predetermined that Jagaimo would come, he always came, but Endomame could be stubborn. She didn`t want to go without him. Enma scared her, but it was all right when Endomame was there. He wasn't smart enough to be scared of anything.  
  
"And you will. You will," he assured her. "But don`t you want to have some fun with this minion first? Gods, he's right here."  
  
Kyabetsu looked back to the minion, he looked like he sincerely wanted to disappear. There was a great opportunity for a game here, and no one around to stop them. Still... "I want to go now."  
  
Endomame saw what she wasn't saying. After spending your whole existence with someone, secrets became next to impossible, Kybetsu was an open map to him; all the important spots were marked in bold text and easy to find. "Yeah, all right. I can beat on the minions anytime."  
  
Jagaimo had been circling the minion, making sure he couldn't break for it. Not that he could have gotten past the other Saiya-jin.  
  
"Come on, runt! Let's go!" Endomame shouted.  
  
"What about this guy?"  
  
"Forget about it!"  
  
"Aw, I was hungry!" Jagaimo ran to catch the others. He reached up and put one hand on the small of Endomame`s back and one between Kyabetsu shoulder blades, in relation to their height. "Hayai-Surari." They disappeared.  
  
They reappeared at Heaven's terminal, where dozens of flights took commuters  
in-between the great city Hades and the Heavens. No discernible amount of time had pasted. They found a plane, this normally would have taken at least an hour, but far be it from a Saiya-jin to wait in line. The flight took only minutes, but Endomame and Jagaimo took full advantage of the time, arguing perpetually. Endomame began by expressing his frustration toward the shortcomings of the Hayai-Surari. Namely, its inability to transport them between Heaven and Hades. He seemed to feel this had something to do with the size of Jagaimo`s testicles. Jagaimo countered by questioning the existence of Endomame`s. At this point, the other people in the plane began to back away, expecting fireworks. Jagaimo continued to say that it wasn't his fault the Hayai-Surari didn`t work that way, he hadn't made it up, furthermore, if Endomame didn`t like it, he could walk home. Kyabetsu told them to shut it and they told her to stick it. The plane landed, and they got off, not a moment too soon. The talk had begun to escalate from friendly bantering which they all enjoyed to boldfaced baiting, as it always did when they got cagey. The overbooked plane, filled with people who glared and whispered behind cupped hands, was more than enough to elicited this response. Jagaimo repeated the Hayai-Surari and they entered Hades.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Saiya-jin do not like being stared at; it keys up all sorts of survival instincts and shatters every status rule. That was why they so rarely came to Hades. Many of the people here had been killed by Saiya-jin, and they'd made plenty of enemies on their own. There were lots of stares; hostile, hate-filled, disgusted ones. Which they always met with scowls or smirks, never looking away. But they did not like being stared at.  
  
There were insults too. Some whispered, some hurled loudly, along with stones. (They had yet to find what a 'sadist' was, but the lower browed ones were clear as crystal.) And there were fights; lots of fights. They didn`t mind those so much, though getting killed was a pain, and the way some of the people took their murders personally - as though the Saiya-jin had come to their planet and killed them because of some personal vendetta - was a little disturbing.   
  
Endomame and his crew reached the oaken door, crisscrossed by steel bars, of the great palace that housed Enma Dai-Ou`s spacious office and the cubicles of his minions, demons, ogres and various other underlings.  
  
The two demons that guarded the doors, each a full eight feet tall and covered with layers of knotted muscles thicker than steel cable, moved forward to meet them - then saw Endomame`s and Jagaimo`s tails, wrapped around their waists, and Kyabetsu`s, swiping back and forth, refusing to behave itself and be still. They backed off, looking at their feet, then the street, refusing to see the Saiya-jin.  
  
Sauntering past the guards, Endomame pushed the door opened and barged in, head high, wearing his best haughty sneer. Jagaimo and Kyabetsu, faces set identically to Endomame`s, followed where they belonged, respectfully, at their leader's heels. "Enma! You wanted to see us?"  
  
Enma Dia-Ou looked up from his paper work. He clicked the cap of his pen, retracting its point, and set it on the desk before speaking. "No. I want to see Kyabetsu. You may leave."  
  
Endomame laughed like Enma had told a good joke.  
  
The two minions that flanked Enma`s desk looked at each other. "Isn't it time for our coffee break?" One mouthed across the room. The other nodded and they left as discreetly as possible.  
  
  
Jagaimo`s eyes were scanning the desk, which Endomame was located oh so conveniently directly under. _Enma`s name plate? No, too light, _Jagaimo thought._ The telephone? No, too heavy_. He didn`t want to kill Endomame. That might work but he could do better. _The potted flowers? Perfect._  
  
"Kyabetsu," Enma said, ignoring Endomame. "Your brother, Raditsu has been-" he paused, reading the page. The muscles in his face loosened, and his mouth fell opened. He re-read the page again, then he must have realized how ridiculous he looked, because he clamped his mouth shut quickly. "Son Goku`s _your _brother?"  
  
"Damn straight he's my brother. And it's Kakarotto, not Son-whatever, thank you very much."  
  
Jagaimo gave the plant a mental push; it slid a few inches toward the edge of the desk. Enma saw it move out of the corner of his eye and pulled it back into place. He sent a reprimandive glare Jagaimo`s way; the boy returned the look with his best 'I didn`t do nothin' face.  
  
"As I was saying, Son Goku seems to have resurrected Raditsu. While management doesn't agree with his methods, there aren't any actual restrictions against it. But, I am confused as to his motives considering he was the one who--"  
  
"What`s 'resurrected'?" Kyabetsu said, loath to seem ignorant, but the word sounded very important.  
  
"It means, in very simple terms," Enma put a great deal of emphases on 'simple.' The hair on Kyabetsu`s tail bristled. "That he's been brought back to life. Now why--"  
  
"Raditsu`s alive! Why would Kakarotto do a stupid thing like that?"   
  
Jagaimo gave the plant another push. No one noticed this time.   
  
"I don`t know." Enma said curtly. "The log book says you spoke with Son recently. Did that have anything to do with--" he stopped abruptly.  
  
Son had appeared.  
  
  
_____________________________  
  
  
"Hiya, guys!" Son said to the other Saiya-jins.  
  
"Kakarotto!" Kyabetsu said, surprised and happy. "How'd you get here?"  
  
"I used Shunkanido. I thi--"  
  
Kyabetsu cut him off. "Did you wish Raditsu back to life?"  
  
"Yeah." Son said reluctantly. "I think I kinda screwed up."  
  
"Kinda?" Kyabetsu repeated. "Kakarotto, you-"  
  
Enma cleared his throat. A very large sound from a very large throat. Son turned toward the sound. "Hiya, Enma!"  
  
It was funny, Jagaimo thought, watching the others and giving the plant another shove, the way Enma`s face turned bright purple when he was really, really angry.  
  
"Son," Enma said, disapproval clear in his voice. "What were you hoping to achieve?" he didn`t wait for an answer. Instead he read Son's intent, a technique normally used to judged the dead. Enma`s face, which wasn't very pleasant in the first place, grew stern. "I've long ago ceased to be surprised by anything these little hellions do, but I had expected better from one of Kaio-sama`s students. How could you let yourself be coerced into something so foolish? Especially when you were the one   
that-"  
  
Jagaimo gave the plant one final push. It slid over the edge of the desk. Enma saw the movement and grabbed for it, missed. He slammed his fist angrily on the desk where the plant had been half a second before. The pot spun over once, half again, then landed upside down on Endomame`s head, the clay pot covering his upper half and the dirt burying his lower.  
  
"You've done it now," Kyabetsu informed him, not without humor. "Endomame`s going to kick your ass."  
  
"He's got to catch me first." Jagaimo said, watching the still pot nervously.  
  
"Jagaimo, he always catches you."  
  
"That's beside the point."  
  
A low, rabid growl came from under the pot. There was a blinding flash of light, and the pot detonated, sending pieces of burnt clay flying around the room like shrapnel, imbedding itself in the walls and the side of Enma`s desk, ripping though the rice-paper widows and winging beyond. A stray piece, larger and sharper than the others, kept going. Tegami, not endowed with skills like the Saiya-jin`s, had taken the long way and was just getting back to Hades. The piece hit him, so he spent the weekend in Hell getting reborn after all.  
  
"Jagaimo, I am going to kill you!" Endomame said, through clenched teeth. Very slowly, leaving wide, unnatural spaces between each word. Little red veins had risen around the edges of his eyes, another was throbbing below his temple.   
  
"What`d I tell you?" Kyabetsu said easily. Endomame`d beat him to the ground, but he won't kill Jagaimo. Sometimes games got out of control, but Endomame would never kill Jagaimo deliberately, not for such a stupid little joke. It would take a hell of a lot more than that to make Endomame turn on them.   
  
Jagaimo thought briefly to take sanctuary with the super Saiya-jin, but decided the stranger probably wouldn't be inclined to help him. Instead, he ran to the far side of Enma`s desk, hoping to kept some space in-between him and Endomame until he found something to divert the other boy's attention from breaking his face in. (That wasn't as hard as it sounded.)  
  
Endomame shook what dirt he could out of his hair, before going after Jagaimo. Jagaimo broke for the door, would have made it, had he seen the giant pencil Enma had dropped earlier. He tripped over it and went sprawling. Endomame jumped into the air, intending to body slam him. "Got you!" He shouted, right before Enma got them both.  
  
The first thing Endomame noticed was the gut-wrenching pain that started in the base of his spine and shot through the rest of his body, completely immobilizing him. Then he saw, or rather felt, that he wasn't falling anymore; he was floating. And Jagaimo was floating beside him, in a very odd position; with his butt sticking in the air and everything else hanging limply. The pieces fell together and realisation dawned;_ that bastard has us by our tails! _Endomame looked up, and confirmed his theory; two red fingers were clamped around the tip of his tail distastefully.  
  
"Hey! Put me down!" Endomame demanded, trying to raise his arm in retaliation, but the damn thing wouldn't listen to him.  
  
"Come on," Jagaimo said, sounding very conniving and pathetic. "Put us down, we wouldn't do anything bad again. Promise."  
  
Enma raised Jagaimo to his face, glaring with one eye at the little boy. "How stupid do you really think I am?"  
  
"Oh, very." Jagaimo said pleasantly, ignoring the blots of pain that were running though his body.  
  
"You're a funny guy, aren't you?" Jagaimo nodded happily. He had previously thought Enma couldn't look more PO`ed; he'd been wrong. Enma stood, carried them to the door, and tossed them outside like dead, dirty mice the cat had dragged in. "Stay away until you learn how to behave!"  
  
Endomame jumped to his feet and bared his teeth. "Then we won't be back!"  
  
Enma ignored him and turn back inside the building. "You too, Kyabetsu."  
  
Kyabetsu stomped her foot. "I didn`t do anything!" She shouted, indignantly.  
  
"Out." Enma shouted, much louder. Kyabetsu went out the door, muttering something under her breath about Enma and stupid balls. Son moved to follow her. "Not you, Son. I need to speak with you."  
  
"It's Kakarotto!" Kyabetsu shouted from the threshold. She would have slammed the door but Enma closed it on her face first. She kicked it, leaving a dent, but not breaking the thick oak panels. She turned on the others. "Nice, guys. Now I don`t know what they're saying!"  
  
"Kyabetsu, we can just--" Jagaimo began.  
  
"Don`t you even dare talk right now." Kyabetsu said, tail brisling. "I don`t want to hear it!"  
  
"As though he could ever keep his mouth shut," Endomame muttered, rubbing the base of his tail.  
  
"You're not allowed to talk either!" Kyabetsu shouted, at the end of her rope, which hadn't been very long to begin with.  
  
"Yeah," Jagaimo said, petting his hurt tail. "If I can't talk, then you can't either."  
  
Endomame puffed out his chest. "I can talk if I want to talk. Who's going to stop me?" He ran his hand behind his ear, and came out with a handful of potting soil. He lobbed it at Jagaimo`s face.  
  
"Will you two shut up! Gods, why do I even stay with you?"  
  
"Because we're the only ones who can stand you," Jagaimo said wisely. He spit out a mouthful of dirt, and wiped the remainder out of his eye. Endomame laughed.  
  
Kyabetsu didn`t find any of this funny. "If you two rat bastards got Kakarotto in trouble--"  
  
"Is that what you're so pissed off about?" Jagaimo said. He stood on his tip-toes and threw his arm around her shoulder. "That guy's favored by a Kaio, right? Enma can't do nothing to him."  
  
Kyabetsu looked at him uncertainly. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Sure I`m sure. Can I talk now?"  
  
"Nope!" She grabbed his arm and wrenched it behind his back. "Because I still don`t know what they're talking about."  
  
"You know, I feel really bad for anyone who's dumber than Endomame."  
  
"Endomame?" Kyabetsu said.  
  
"Over there." He nodded toward the great palace. Endomame was standing by one of the rice-paper window that had been torn by the garden shrapnel, looking inside the building.  
  
She let go of Jagaimo`s arm and went over to the window. Kyabetsu shoved Endomame over playfully, so she could see too.  
  
"Hey, move over. I can't see!" Jagaimo whispered.  
  
"Shut up!" Kyabetsu hissed. She moved over, giving him equal viewing room. They peered in through the peephole, unnoticed and unseen.  
  
_____________________________  
  
"Is it Kakarotto or Son?" Enma asked, sitting back behind his desk. He picked up his pen and began clicking it open and closed, opened and closed, impatiently, wanting to get back to work.  
  
"I like Goku best," Son said, walking to the edge of Enma`s desk.  
  
"That's what I thought," Enma said, clearly pleased.   
  
"But some people call me Kakarotto, so I guess it's that too." Enma grunted, but didn`t say anything. "Enma," Goku said suddenly, remembering why he came. "Do you know how come Raditsu`s alive?"  
  
Enma put his pen down. "As you may have noticed, all of my staff is alive, they do however, die from time to time. When this happens, their souls are automatically sent to Hell, where they are reborn." Enma was warming up on one of his favorite topics. "It's much more cost effective that way. We used to have the factory in Hades, but when it needed to expand a few hundred years ago, Management decided to have it rebuilt in Hell. Real-estate's very cheap there, and the HAB, that's the subway that goes between Hades and Hell, has had empty seats ever since we stared using more intense rehabilitation methods, and it's always empty on the way back. My staff just rides it down and back whenever they`re killed."  
  
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with Raditsu?"  
  
Enma sighed frustratedly. "Your dragon used the factory to bring Raditsu back to life, understand?" He didn`t give Son a chance to answer. "Do you know how much paperwork I have to fill out every time one of those dragons resurrects someone?" This apparently was also a rhetorical question because Enma moved on without pausing. However, we can be relatively sure the answer to both would be 'uh-uh'. "It's very annoying." He stopped, deliberating wether or not he had time in his schedule to continue the conversation. He decided he'd save time in the long run if he kept going. "Son, do you intend to kill Raditsu?"  
  
Son thought hard before he answered. "I don`t want to." He shook his head. "But, I will if he hurts anybody."  
  
Enma nodded. "Then I`ll leave his file out. He'll be back soon."  
  
This attitude annoyed Son. Anyone could change and do good, if given enough chances. He had seen it over and over again, from Yamucha to Juuhachigou; what Enma said, it wasn't fair. "Can I go now?"   
  
"Can you show the proper respect?"  
  
Goku scratched his head, confusion making him pleasant once again. "Umm, is that a yes or no?"  
  
"Just get out!" He couldn't take these Saiya-jin. There were many species that were crueler, more self-absorbed, opportunist, or stupid than the Saiya-jin, but he'd yet to come across a more volatile combination of these traits. Add complete uncouthness and what Enma came out with was a bad migraine. Even the hero Son seemed incapable of showing respect.  
  
Son walked to the door. He turned around and waved before leaving. "Bye-bye!" Enma had returned to his paper work and did not look up or return the fare-well. Son shrugged and went outside.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Son pulled the door shut, wondering distantly about the dent in its frame. He walked past the threshold, looking for the other Saiya-jin, and was met by a blow in the gut he wasn't prepared for. It did nothing, to Son.  
  
Endomame clenched his wrist. "Shit!" It was times like these he wished he'd put the effort into earning admission to Middle Heaven, where pain was transcended. The bone would be healed within the hour, but right now, it hurt.  
  
Son looked down. "What you do that for?"  
  
"Why the hell you think?"  
  
Son sighed. Well, he'd known it was coming, but he wished he could have let her down more gently. "You guy's heard what me and Enma said, huh?"  
  
Endomame didn`t justify that with an answer. "Why'd you even come here? Kyabetsu doesn't need you!" He seemed to have forgotten Kyabetsu had been the one to bring Son there, either that or chose to ignore it, "I've taken care of her fine!"  
  
"Kyabetsu!" Son realized, for the first time, his sister and Jagaimo weren't there. "Where are they?"  
  
"Who knows where those two go when she gets sad. What do you care?"  
  
That was a very good question, to which Son had no answer. What emotional investment did he have in this new Saiya-jin sister? Life had been fine without her. He had his family. Muten Roshi was just as good as a blood grandfather, maybe better, and Kuririn and Buruma were more than adequate siblings, plus a wife and two sons. And none of them had ever killed thoughtlessly and unremorsefuly. But it was wrong to make people sad; he`d done that, he thought.  
  
For the second time that day, he locked onto Kyabetsu`s ki and transported himself to her location.  
  
_____________________________  
  
There was a bird singing on a branch above their heads, its head held high, throat warbling up and down. It had shiny, midnight black plumage, and a smooth, flowing song.  
  
It wasn't real.  
  
None of it was real; the whole place had been dreamed up by the Saiya-jin. It could have been Bejiitasei, a fighting arena filled with dozens of fearsome opponents, or a giant shopping complex, stocked wall to wall with toys and candy, but few Saiya-jin were so imaginative, so their fantasy world took the form of Yasashisei, the only place they'd been in life for any length of time. Jagaimo had made the bird, modeled off of a species native to Yasashisei, given it a few personal touches, and willed it to sing. Because Kyabetsu like the bird`s song, and sometimes when she was sad, it made her feel better.  
  
She used to be sad all the time, Jagaimo remembered, after Raditsu had been sent to Hell. They'd always assumed he'd come to Lower Heaven with them. He saved them all, and though his reasons had been less than charitable, what of it? They didn`t know that; if they had, it wouldn't have mattered. In their minds he was the greatest hero ever. Hadn't he dropped everything to help them when he didn`t have to? Hadn't he brought Jagaimo (at least temporarily) back from death's door? When he'd been sentenced to Hell, they all been hit with a sort of survivor guilt (as ridiculous as that term was in this situation). How could they have fun while Raditsu was all alone and suffering? But Siaya-jin and childern are resilient, and even the deepest wounds heal if given enough time; by now even the scars had began to fade. Jagaimo couldn't remember the last time the bird had been necessary; but now, Jagaimo thought angrily, this Kakarotto guy had not only torn those ancient wounds open, he'd rubbed salt in them, too.   
  
It would start all over again now; she`d toss and turn at night, and The Nightmares, the really bad ones that knocked Kyabetsu out of her sleep so quickly she won't know where she was, would return. And during the day, she'd be listless or snippy, lose of all interest in food and games, and become (more so) a general bitch. Or worse, the Gods forbid, she'd start to hope Raditsu would be let off the second time around and come back. A hopeless notion that he would't give any space in his mind, and never dream of passing to Kyabetsu.   
  
They were sitting in a shadowed thicket made of deep green leaves dotted by lightly colored flowers, with a pleasant, but not overpowering fragrance. They'd left Endomame, who was dead set on beating up the super Saiya-jin 'because he was a jerk' and come back to this place which would never be defined as 'home'.  
  
Kyabetsu hadn't cried, (If asked, they both would have found the notion preposterous; Saiya-jin didn`t cry), but not crying could be more exhausting than all out bawling. Now she was leaning against Jagaimo, her head on his shoulder. He was relatively sure she was sleep, so Jagaimo was surprised when she said, "Why do you think he did it?" without lifting her head.  
  
Jagaimo thought for a while; Kyabetsu didn`t interrupt him. She loved Endomame dearly, but he couldn't do this for her. Oh, there'd be some good thing for her to eat back at the camp, or the soft cub of some animal, real or imaginary, that Endomame would claim to have snatched from its formidable parents, very nearly at the cost of his skin. Or he'd think up some amusing trick or joke; anything to cheer her up, and she'd pretend it had worked, because he'd tried so hard. But Jagaimo did what Endomame would never think of; he sat quietly, let her lay her head on his shoulder and made a bird sing. It helped some.  
  
"I don`t know," Jagaimo said, after a long time. "The super Saiya-jin is suppose to be cruel and uncontrollable, but Kakarotto seemed as gentle as a cub. It doesn't make any sense."  
  
There was a cracking sound outside the thicket. Kyabetsu saw what was coming and stiffened, then pulled away from Jagaimo.  
  
"Kyabetsu?" Son dropped to his hands and knees; his head and shoulders appeared though the wall of greenery. "Hey, guys."  
  
Kyabetsu crawled deeper into the brush and out of sight, Son moved to follow her, Jagaimo blocked her way. "Don`t you dare!" He growled lowly. Son was by now well aware a Saiya-jin could go from annoyed to pissed to murderous in about 0.03 seconds. Still, the rapid change from a friendly little boy to an angered warrior was startling. "What, you trying to make it worse?"  
  
"Uh-uh." Son said uncertainly. "I want to make things better, but I--" He didn`t know where to go with that. "Is she mad at me?"  
  
"Damn right I`m mad at you!" Came the answer from the foliage. "I`m mad at you and I`m mad at Raditsu and I never want either of you to come back! You're both jerks!"  
  
Jagaimo knew at least part of that was a lie, so the rest probably was too, but he was in no hurry to enlighten Son; better to let him squirm.  
  
"Kyabetsu-"  
  
"Leave me alone, Son Goku!" She said the last two words with disdain Bejiita would have done well to reproduce.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Hey!" Jagaimo interrupted him. He lowered his voice. "Stop. Just stop, now. You're not going to get anywhere, no one can talk to her when she gets like this. Go, come back or don`t, but leave now."  
  
"Don`t come back!" Kyabetsu shouted.  
  
Son looked at Jagaimo miserably. "Leave," Jagaimo said firmly.  
  
Son relented. "Shunkanido." He disappeared, already back where he belonged. Jagaimo gave Kyabetsu an all clear. She came out and put her head back on his shoulder. He put an arm around her; she was shaking. Jagaimo started the bird again, it kept singing for a long, long time.  
  



	4. Raditsu

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Defeat is worse than death because you live with defeat." Bill Musselman  
  
"If you wake up at a different time and in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?" Fight Club   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
It was coming dark when Raditsu woke from the dream.  
  
It could hardly be classified as a nightmare, such sights and sounds were common place in Hell; he was used to it.  
  
Kyabetsu -- no, not her -- something that sounded like Kyabetsu, had been calling him. Of course, it wasn`t really her, just a demon who was good at screwing with heads. Raditsu was amazed they thought he was dumb enough to fall for it after all this time. The demon -- and it was, Raditsu knew, a demon -- had laughed then whined then shouted, but Raditsu hadn`t answered. Nothing good ever came from listening to the voices or following the images. And after a while the demon had given up and went away. Raditsu had fully expected to wake up surrounded by Hell`s usual landscape, but apparently the demon wasn`t done playing yet.  
  
It had been stupid to believe, even for a few minutes, that he was alive again. That wasn`t possible; that should have been obvious. Besides the fact that he and Kakarotto were both dead, and death was forever, (despite what that Namek might have to say about it) there was no way Kakarotto could be so strong. His highest possible combat level had been projected at just over seven hundred. For him to be injured so badly by simply punching Kakarotto (Raditsu knew enough to be able to tell bones were broken. This was somewhat confusing, because technically, he shouldn't have had bones, but that was only more proof that it was a trick) the little idiot would have had to be at least as strong as Nappa; wholly impossible.   
  
It was dark; the moonless sky, compliments of the great demon king, did very little in the way of lighting. Raditsu could see in the dark, almost as well as a cat, but things were still disconcertingly blurry. When was the last time he`d been in the dark? Five years? A thousand? Hell`s blood red sun, bigger than any moon Raditsu ever seen, never moved from high noon.  
  
He supposed Kakarotto wouldn`t be too adverse to letting him 'wish back' the brats -- provided he crawled. But what good would that do? They were undoubtedly in Hell; what Saiyajin wasn`t? If he played the good brother again, Raditsu thought, and had them resurrected, it wouldn`t do any good. If Kyabetsu and the others, anyone else he`d known, himself -- the whole Saiyajin empire -- were to come back, live another hundred -- another million -- years, what of it? They'd just end up where they'd started, and it would be that much harder to get used to Hell again. And any Saiyajin that could be born if Bejiitasei lived? Generations of new children, new souls that could only go the way of their parents. No, Kakarotto hadn`t done him any favors, Raditsu wouldn`t wrong the Saiya-jin in the same way.  
  
Those people -- all of them -- were gone forever. Raditsu had gotten over it. You had to.  
  
One thing about Hell though, he`d had plenty of time to develop perspective. He could now see that his previous life had been little more than a fantastic chain of misjudgments, miscalculations, misinterruptions, and blatant screw-ups, cumulating in his own death against opponents that should have been easily beaten. He wasn`t in any particular hurry to repeat the process.   
  
Besides, the more Raditsu thought about it, the more ridiculous any help from little brother seemed. It was blatantly clear that the only reason he was alive was because Kakarotto had botched up somehow and didn`t have the stomach to fix his mistake. If Kakarotto saw no value in his duty to his race and family, and if a handful of vermin were more important to him than his own son, why would he give half a damn for a dead sister he`d never met?  
  
Sleep snuck up on him.  
  
_____________________________  
  
It`s hard to tell how much any given animal understands at any given time. Most logical people will tell you animals don`t think, and they`re probably right -- to a point. But animals do remember, and react to stimuli (a fancy word for 'life') based partially on instinct, but mainly -- among the 'higher' species anyway -- on information gathered within their circle of experience.  
  
What the lion`s experience told him when he saw Raditsu sleeping beside the deer was simple; a strange hunter was in his territory and had poached his prey. He was familiar with humans -- he`d been shot at enough times -- but this wasn`t one of them. The stranger's posture, his bearing even while asleep, his very scent, pointed to a fellow killer.  
  
The lion was a golden mane, a separate species from the Sabre-tooth tigers that populated most of the Earth`s wilderness. The average male of his kind, in optimum condition, weighed about eighty kilograms, compared to the one hundred and ten of most Sabres. Less emphasis had been placed on the golden mane`s canines, and more on large, powerful fore and rear paws. His species looked less the clown and more the king. He was a lone male, four years old, well built and in his prime. Still, it was unlikely he`d have a harem. Many of the surrounding prides had three males, some even more. It would take a super lion to hold even one female by himself.  
  
He hadn`t started out alone. At the prodding of his home pride's males, the lion had left, along with his black-maned brother. At the time, they still had their milk teeth. The two lions had traveled a long way together, slinking along scent borders, running from bigger males, looking for a territory that was unclaimed or easily conquered.  
  
After two years of wondering, they had come to the patch of land where Raditsu was sleeping. By then, they were no longer the half-cubs they had been when they left the home pride.  
  
The two had challenged the owner of this small run of land; an old lion with patchy fur, worn down teeth and brittle claws. The brothers had driven the solitary lion away easily. The land wasn`t much, but it was better than they`d been used to, and they counted themselves lucky (if animals hold such concepts) to have it. They may have thought, as their manes filled out and they put on real muscle, that the other lions were afraid of them. Of course, the neighboring prides could have driven them out as easily as the brothers had the old one. But the local lions knew something the foreign brothers, who had come from true, deep wilderness didn`t; there were too many humans with too many guns in the area for any large predator to be safe.  
  
Things had been good for a while. The territory was small, and by no means overflowing with prey, but then, they`d never been above scavenging. There was enough to get along.  
  
Then winter set in. All the prey animals, from wood mice to deer, seemed to melt out from under their paws. There wasn`t enough to keep one lion fed, let alone two, and they fought over what little there was until the morsel wasn`t worth the calories expended prying it from the other`s mouth.  
  
The vast, uniformness of the farmer`s pastures had been enough to keep the brothers from crossing to the barn yard. But one night while he was out alone, the scent of something warm and living in all that bitter, empty cold had drifted to the golden mane on a chilled breeze. That, topped by deep hunger, had been enough to over come the lion`s fear of open spaces. He had raided the farm`s hen house, and returned to their cave at dawn with a full belly.  
  
The next night the black mane had back-track along his brother`s paw prints and scent trail toward the farm. The golden mane had followed at a lazy pace, still full enough to feel good but not logy. He cuffed the black mane playfully across the face, looking for a game, but was repaid only by an angry snarl from the other, still hungry lion.  
  
The golden mane had fallen back, sulking. When they reached the farm he waited in the first field, partially because he wasn`t hungry but mostly because he was angry.  
  
A few minutes later, a dog had begun to bark. A door had opened then banged shut. The lion crouched low in the naked field, too frighten and confused to move.  
  
The black mane had come running across the pasture, toward the forest` cover. There had been a crack of thunder (a sound the golden mane had become very familiar with in the months afterward) and his brother had fallen as though struck in the flank. He`d been trying to pull himself from the ground when the sound came again. The golden mane found his feet and ran.  
  
He`d spent the night crouched in the back of their cave, waiting for the black mane to come back. The next morning the golden mane went looking for his brother. He headed for the farm, stopping every few meters to call the other lion.  
  
The lion became silent as he neared the farm. He came to the place where the black mane`s trail ended. The snow had been kicked up and there was a red hole where warm blood had melted it. There was snow shoe prints all around, and dog tracks, and a sled print off to the side. He sniffed the blood, then called out again.  
  
There was another loud sound, then a second; what seemed to be two brightly colored, small birds plowed into the snow in-front of him. The lion ran.  
  
The golden mane had called his brother from time to time over the next few days. He didn`t use a name -- they didn`t have those -- it was more of 'come here' grunt. There was never an answer. After a while, the lion just seemed to forget the black mane. What more could he do? Things went on... but he never raided another farm.  
  
That had been almost a year ago. Return to the present:  
  
The golden mane would attack the Stranger; drive him out if he could, kill the Stranger if he had to. It wasn`t that he hated Raditsu, (or any of the young hunters that he routinely drove out of his territory and into almost certain starvation) for the intrusion, or for the lose of his brother, who the lion barely remembered. He was angry now, yes, and later he would be enraged, then terrified. But the all consuming, endless hate toward another, that so many sentients carry, burning in their souls, until the day of their death, and too offend afterward? It was beyond him.  
  
Another hunter could not be allowed to take over his land. It was nothing personal; just the way things were.  
  
Once, the lion had killed a leopard; the other cat had been small, but it was still the hardest fight of the golden mane`s life. He come away from the battle with a lacerated muzzle and one ear torn half off, and a lasting memory. The lion didn`t relish the thought of a life or death fight with another carnivore; if he`d learned anything in his four years, it was that nothing /wanted/ to die. The Stranger was much bigger than a leopard.  
  
The not-human -- whatever he was -- didn`t look strong enough to be a threat, but the kill he was guarding... it took muscle to take down a buck that size. This was a homeless rogue, no doubt. And young, he didn`t even have the sense to drag his prey up a tree or bury it. Instead, he had his hand resting on the deer`s hunch, like that would keep other hunters from stealing it. He probably found the deer somewhere, but it wouldn`t be wise to start a fight with so unfamiliar an opponent.  
  
He would learn what he could about the Stranger then, before he attacked.  
  
The lion approached Raditsu silently, crouched low under the brush, circling him slowly, trying to find the Stranger`s weak and strong points. He didn`t seem to be armored like a hedgehog or armadillo, his fingers were long and clawless -- like a monkey`s -- (Monkeys, the lion knew, were smart; sometimes they threw sticks and fruit, but they were easy to kill if you caught them on the ground) and the Stranger`s teeth, from what the lion could see, were big but not sharp.  
  
This, he couldn`t understand; the Stranger didn`t seem to /have/ any strong points. Maybe it wouldn`t be a good idea to attack the back of the Stranger`s neck -- there was a thick ruff there -- it might get in the way of his teeth, better to attack the Stranger`s naked throat or belly.  
  
His tail began to wave back and forth in curiosity as his guard dropped; the Stranger wasn`t dangerous, the lion was sure.  
  
He passed closer to Raditsu than he would have dreamed had he thought the Saiya-jin posed any threat to him. He sniffed Raditsu carefully, watching that his feet didn`t tread on any squealing twig. This was something he`d never seen before   
  
In the dark, the lion`s tail looked to be an undefined, dark color. All its hairs were a short, uniform length, there was no tuft on the end. The lion took a step back, trying to divine the trouble. His tail flicked once more. Its tip hit Raditsu`s temple, and brushed across his eyes.  
  
Nocturnal attacks were something Raditsu had been wary of in life, and he`d become much more experienced after death. He woke, his sub-conscious shouting 'Attacker' - or perhaps, even before he was awake -- had grabbed the tail and crushed several of the cartilage discs inside it before his eyes opened.  
  
For the half second before the lion`s form took shape through the darkness, he`d thought he had injured another Saiya-jin`s tail -- a shameful thing, and he released it. Then his eyes focused, and he saw it was an animal. Some big stupid beast, crouched low to the ground as if ready to pounce, glaring at him with piercing, enraged eyes. The lion was silent, his species rarely vocalized, but if looks could kill.  
  
This could be fun.  
  
Raditsu`s eye caught the lions injured tail. He felt a small pang of guilt. Tails were off limits, only vermin and cowards sunk to attacking them. That kind of fighting wasn`t right and it wasn`t fair -- he knew that --  
  
Forget it.   
  
There weren`t many rules -- don`t pull tails, don`t screw the vermin, do your job, know your place -- but he`d followed them -- he`d tried. And what had it gotten him? Nothing. Everything was still gone, and would still be gone no matter what he did. He`d never see any of them again. Hell was set up real nice that way. And what about Kakarotto, with his uncleared planet, and vermin pets and half-breed brat, would turned his back on everything Saiya-jin? What about him?  
  
Oh, he was happy, no doubt.  
  
So screw it. Screw the Saiya-jin, they were dead and dead people didn`t matter.  
  
He pushed the guilt away. He`d do what he wanted, and what he wanted was a fight; one he could win for a change.  
  
Raditsu took a step toward the lion. He fell back, shoulders brisling, as though considering weither to fight or run. The lion fled into the brush.  
  
Raditsu contemplated chasing the lion. Such an animal would be easy to over take, even in the dark. It wasn`t worth the trouble. The beast had looked powerful, but it was, like everything else on the planet, worthlessly weak. Not even worth a low level`s time. He supposed if he wanted a half decent fight he`d have to hunt down that midget or old man - not that they were much either -- but then, Kakarotto wouldn`t be too pleased about that, would he?  
  
The night wasn`t half over. Raditsu sat back down and closed his eyes, but this time sleep wouldn`t come.  
  
  
_____________________________  
  
/It was difficult,/ Dende thought, looking down at Raditsu from his palace. It was difficult to decide what to do in situations like this. Son Goku`s brother! Who`d have ever thought...  
  
Dende certainly owed Son a debt of gratitude; the existence of the whole Namekian race for starters, not to mention Earth, and all the Gods knew how Son hated to see anyone cast aside. But a Divine hand, when applied too heavily, had ruined as many lives as it had saved.  
  
No, better to wait and let things play out the way they were meant to.  
  
But Son Goku`s brother! And Saiyajin...  
  
It was overly intrusive, yes, more honestly; rude, but curiosity demanded a complete understanding of this individual.  
  
So Dende would watch Raditsu carefully. If he should decide to cause harm, well it was beyond Dende`s power to strike people down, but there were warriors who would be willing, if it were necessary to protect those more innocent than the Saiyajin. But only if Raditsu made it necessary, until then Dende would wait, in hopes that Raditsu could work things out for himself.  
  
  
  
  
  
7 


	5. In the Wilderness

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"I never thought much of the courage of a lion tamer. Inside the cage he is   
at least safe from people." - George Bernard Shaw  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter Five  
  
  
The lion watched the Stranger from the brush, trusting a screen of thin green creepers to shield him from the Stranger's senses. Every now and then he lowered his eyes to lick his injured tail. For the next three years, the lion`s tail would bear a kink where Raditsu had broken it.   
  
He had better things to be angry about than a kinked tail; the Stranger had embarrassed him, made him run; on his own land, no less! The golden mane wouldn`t let that stand -- no mangy poacher would push him off his territory -- the lion had worked too hard to let that happen.  
  
After some consideration, (his first attack had been a terrific failure, and he wasn`t quite sure how to go about with the next one) the lion stood and began to circle the Stranger, moving closer with every pass, making no attempt to hide his approach. Instead the golden mane stepped heavily on every available dry leaf and twig, purposely making as much noise, sounding as big as he could. With any luck the Stranger would decide he was outmatched and run without fighting.  
  
Letting out a roar that carried for miles the golden mane broke his slow, lumbering pace and charged. Far away another lion lifted his head, perked his ears up and listened, before returning to a well fed sleep; elsewhere, the sound set a pack of hunting dogs into a frenzy of howling. The Stranger didn`t flee or prepare for an attack as the lion, fangs bared, rushed upon him; Raditsu sat perfectly still, his eyes closed as though in sleep.  
  
The lion found this unsettling -- perhaps a sign of rabies -- but it was too late to break his charge. The lion lunged for Raditsu`s throat.  
  
A faint smile came to the Saiyajin`s face -- the first since his resurrection -- when the lion jumped. How could anything, even a beast, be so stupid? But Raditsu didn`t open his eyes yet; he didn`t need to.  
  
Raditsu caught the lion across the throat and slammed him on his back, pinning the golden mane with one hand. Only then did Raditsu open his eyes, shifting to his knees so he could leer down at the trapped lion.  
  
Now the lion understood just how out-classed he was, but it was too late. The golden mane kicked at Raditsu`s chest and stomach, racking his claws backward against the Saiyajin`s flesh in a move that could easily disembowel buffalo; it was like trying to scratch stone -- worse even -- with stone at least dust would crumble away.  
  
Raditsu would strangle the stupid beast. It was just what he needed; a good fight, an entertaining kill. That would fix things; make him feel normal again.   
  
Sure it would.   
  
By now, Raditsu saw, the animal's struggles were slowing, his lips and gums rapidly turning bluish-purple.   
  
/The best kind of fun./   
  
/A great game./  
  
No.  
  
Things weren't going the way they should have been; it /was/ a great game -- his favorite -- but it wasn`t fun. Raditsu shifted his weight from the lion`s windpipe while he considered this, allowed the lion to roll to his stomach, then caught him by the scruff of the neck. The lion pulled as far away as he could, stomach pressed to the ground, like a dog staining against its collar, before finally giving up. He turned back to the Saiyajin, no longer bothering to fight. The golden mane was panting; a rough, painful sound coming with each breath. The golden mane glared at Raditsu, the lion`s eyes reflecting clearly that he knew he was as good as dead, but nonetheless promising Raditsu that he /would/ kill him, weaker or not.   
  
Raditsu had been on the receiving end of countless such looks, not to mention endless screams, curses and tears. They were at best amusing, at worst disgusting, but never, NEVER pitiable. Nor was the lion`s expression now.  
  
The problem was, Raditsu decided, that he was rushing to the finishline when he should be enjoying the sport at length. True, the animal was nothing more than vermin; though less so than Kakarotto`s humans. And it was nothing beside a Saiyajin, but lacking an equal fighter, the beast might make a passable sparing partner, if he was built up a little first. Raditsu could kill the animal any time he wanted. /Sure, that would be easy./  
  
So why Raditsu released the lion`s scruff and let him crawl unsteadily out of sight is hard to hit upon. There was no way Raditsu could have known how much the lion would mean for his soul. Maybe he felt some empathy for a fighter he had went as far as to mistake for another Saiyajin, or maybe guilt for breaking his tail, something which should aways be offnimance. Or even, after twenty solitary years in Hell, Raditsu was lonely enough to take companionship -- even non-Saiyajin -- where he found it.   
  
The lion was still in the brush, crouching just out of sight, yowling threats under his breath in an attempt to regain face.  
  
The sun was coming up over the horizon. Raditsu stood and stretched his stiff muscles. He was hungry.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Things moved very slowly after that, but it was all right; there was still enough time.  
  
The lion did try to drive Raditsu away a few more times. But after a while he came to understand that while the Ally ('Ally' being the closest English equivalent to the designation Raditsu had taken in the lion`s mind) wasn`t going anywhere, he wasn`t going to try to claim the territory for his own either. Once the lion understood that, he threw himself into the spars with great pleasure. The golden mane always came away bruised and sore, but that didn`t matter; it was fun.   
  
The lion could have learned Raditsu`s name, if he`d heard it repeated enough times, but it was beneath a Saiyajin to even be near such vermin -- he`d already lowered himself more he could stumic thinking about -- so he never spoke to the lion, beyond a beckoning or commanding word now and then. Raditsu, who didn`t have the first clue as to how to train an animal, would have surprised but not unpleased to learn he was doing a decent job of it. So the lion had never heard the word 'Raditsu' let alone associated it with anything.  
  
The lion had never seen it done himself, but instinct told him lone lions sometimes joined into prides. Was the Ally a lion? The golden mane wasn`t sure, but he thought it was close enough.   
  
The golden mane didn`t mind having Raditsu around. He was a valuable one; before the Ally had come, the territory had been in constant danger of invasion. Now, the lion was sure, not even a large pride could push them off their land. Afraid that the Ally would leave if he didn`t feel their partnership was growing fast enough, took most of the initiative. He moved out of his cave and began to sleep near Raditsu`s tree, then as the nights became colder, beside the Saiyajin.  
  
Raditsu never gave the golden mane food; the animal could take care of himself, Raditsu figured, and hunting was hard work for the animal so it would make the beast stronger. Male lions never shared unless they had killed together, so the lion viewed this as natural.  
  
There were so many things Raditsu had forgotten -- hell, never even noticed before -- the wind, fog, dew, green growth, the stars. They were easy to appreciate now, but he tried not to; that way, Raditsu thought, after he had died again, he wouldn`t miss any of it.  
  
The animal -- Raditsu wasn`t sure what it was called -- wasn`t too bad to have around. He`d never owned an animal, or known anyone personally who had, although on most planets he had cleared, they had kept companion animals. Pets, they were called; normally weak, helpless, sickeningly cute little beasts. So Raditsu did understand the concept.  
  
The mock fights were entertaining. The lion could never be anything near a Saiyajin, but Raditsu could tell he was getting stronger. It was somewhat rewarding to see the improvement.  
  
The attachment was loose, mutual and adequate. Months passed.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Raditsu raked his fingers through the lion`s fur, hunting down fleas. He wasn`t aware of how much trust it took for a cat to allow someone to touch its stomach, Raditsu`s only intention was getting rid of the fleas.   
  
The fleas fled from the lion`s thick ruff to the short-haired barrens of his stomach at the approach of Raditsu`s fingers. Once the re-con was complete, it was only a matter of seconds before the insects rolled off the lion`s chest, chard and smoking, killed by a beam of energy so minuet a human eye couldn`t have seen it.  
  
It didn`t matter how often Raditsu went over the golden mane`s coat, a few hours later the lion would once again be crawling with the little biting insects. Damn things jumped on him from the animal and left itchy bites.   
  
The golden mane yawned, unmaliciously baring all of his wicked teeth, and rolled to his side, causing Raditsu to lose track of his latest group of victims. Raditsu grabbed two handfuls of the lion`s fur and baggy skin and yanked him on to his back once again.   
  
The lion sent a mildly annoyed look Raditsu`s way, then he stretched, so casually that anyone watching (And Dende was always watching) would have sworn it was intentional, kicked Raditsu across the face with his rear foot.   
  
That was just about enough for the day. I should, Raditsu thought with as much fondness as he was capable of, just kill the damned beast; get it, and its parasites, out of his hair.   
  
Instead, he pushed the lion away, stood and walked toward the river. The lion followed Raditsu with his eyes for a few seconds, wondering what could possibly be more interesting than himself. The golden mane rolled to his feet and, after stretching so widely that his back bowed, his belly brushed the ground and every joint and tendon from his jaw to his kinked tail cracked or creaked, started in the opposite direction from where Raditsu was headed. He hurt all over from the previous day`s spar, but it was a good, strengthening kind of pain. The lion didn`t need to -- and couldn`t -- take it any farther than that.  
  
The Ally didn`t seem to be a social animal, but that was all right with the lion, who wasn`t either. If the Ally would rather be alone right now, then golden mane would go find something to eat.  
  
It was begining to snow, not for the first time this year, but it looked to Raditsu that this time they were in for a real storm. He walked past the river. Something had to be done about his clothes; the ridiculous orange uniform had held together well, considering, but by now it was tattered and faded. The winters would be bad here, he could tell that already. Saiyajin weren`t as sensitive to the cold as some other species, but extremely low temputers could be dangerous. (he`d have been more considerd if he`d known how close his younger brother had come to freezing to death only a few kilometers from where he stood) Warmer clothing would be a necessity.  
  
There was a small town to the north, Raditsu knew. On clear, breezy days, he could smell the wood smoke drifting out from their cooking fires. It couldn`t hurt to check it out. Despite what Kakarotto and other outsiders seemed to think, most Saiyajin /were/ capable of walking down a street without killing someone, though Raditsu was loath to do anything just because little brother said so.  
  
Of course, what Kakarotto had said wouldn`t influence his behavior. /Not at all./ Why, if he wanted to, he`d lay the whole town to waste; /Show little brother a thing or two about the family business./  
  
But Raditsu wouldn`t. He`d tell himself he could, even that he was going to, but he wouldn`t really. Because he was scared.20077  
  
Yay! Lab-ish people! I`ve got a lab-mutt named Kelly. If you don`t mind the question, do you guys think your dogs are smart? (I`m trying to get a read on the breed)   
  
Kaji: Yeah, manga is obcenly exspenive. So are books, too: I useally buy used books, but my aunt gave me a $25.00 gift certift to the book store for Cristmas, and I was thinking I could get five good books for that. I got two and had to spend someof my own money to pay for them; they`re both referants, but still. (One`s called Smarter than You Think and quite good for a dog training book) I spend ALL my money (which isn`t much) on manga and books as I have no life.  
  
I haven`t seen Oh Brother Where art thou yet but I`ve heard the sound track and thought it to be quite good.  
  
Hehe. Me, I stutter around people I don`t know and go goofballs around people I do.  
  
Gogeta: Gladiator was a great movie.  
  
  
  
1 


	6. In Jingle Village

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Events that are predestined require   
but little management. They manage themselves.   
They slip into place while we sleep, and suddenly we are   
aware that the thing we fear to attempt, is   
already accomplished." - Amelia Barr  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
_   
**Chapter Six: Jingle Village  
**   
  
Jingle Village consisted of little more than some thirty small assembly-line produced capsule-homes, (the kind with the extra thick insulation) two bunk houses, a general store and tavern. There was no post office. Naked pastures, stripped by cattle and the cold, newly logged lots and stands of old growth forest surrounded the little town.  
  
About a mile from town Raditsu came to the twin bunk houses. Built to hold about fifty people each, they were made of stacked logs, felled on site, with imported cement packed into the spaces between the logs.  
  
The buildings didn`t particularly interest Raditsu; from the smell of it they were empty anyway. But the dozen or so sets of work boots that were piled by the nearest bunk house`s back door, and the clothing -- jackets, flannel shirts, jeans, everything hanging from lines and laying on polished logs to dry caught his attention.  
  
Sneak thievery was above any self-respecting Saiyajin; if a warrior wanted something, he didn`t slink around like some staving vermin slave, he just took it.  
  
Oh, but Raditsu was beyond caring. And wasn`t survival the most important thing anyway?  
  
_Of course it is._  
  
So when Raditsu entered the Jingle Village, he was dressed like anyone else. And, so he thought at the time, all set for whatever winter could throw at him.   
_____________________________  
  
There was nothing of real importance happening in the town, that Raditsu could see. He walked down the center of the thin, unpaved road, looking at nothing in particular.   
  
In front of one house a man was feeding a group of chained sled dogs chucks of meat from a burlap sack. He tossed a piece to each of the dogs, which were tied far enough apart that they couldn`t fight over the food, while trying to keep his fingers a safe distance from the snapping jaws.  
  
Further down the road, a group of boys, maybe ten, twelve years old were fighting. An old bent woman with no teeth ran over and chased them off her lawn with an equally worn broom, hitting the boys over their heads. They fled toward the setting sun, arms held over their heads defensibly. The old woman turned back to her work, cackling pleasantly to herself as she swept the path to her well-kept capsule home.  
  
There was, Raditsu thought, no sense in trying to understand vermin.  
  
Up ahead were two plank buildings, the biggest ones in the village. Above one of the twin doors, a sign read 'JINGLE GENERAL' in bold, hand-painted block letters; over the other door a similar sign read 'JINGLE TAVERN'.  
  
This time of day the general store was all but vacant, but the bar was jumping with loggers, who having spent the day working in the woods were now eager to spend the credit they`d earned on a night of fun and a drink or two (or a dozen) before turning in.  
  
Raditsu went inside the bar.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Raditsu`s view was briefly obscured by a cloud of blue-gray tobacco smoke. He brushed it away with his hand and squinting in the dull light, moved forward.  
  
There were about seventy lumberjacks in the building, some sitting at the bar, holding loud conversations among themselves and with the barmaid, more at tables, playing cards or rolling dice; all shouting, drinking, laughing.   
  
Few people noticed Raditsu, but the ones that did studied the Saiyajin longer than they might have, noting his long hair and what seemed to be a band of fur warped around his waist, trying to decide if they`d seen him before and if he was trouble. But after a few seconds, all the tavern`s patrons turned back to their games and drinks and friends.   
  
There was a large group of loggers crowded around a table in the far corner, their attention focused on the pair seated at it: two big scruffy looking men. Their hands were locked together across the table, while their elbows rested on a piece of rough cloth. The spectators argued with each other and placed bets with a man who stood at the head of the table while the two opponents glared at each other.  
  
A Saiyajin game, Raditsu obsevered with some wonder. Arm-wrestling; never as much fun as sparring, but the best entertainment you could get when traveling in a fragile ship.  
  
Raditsu took a place by the table as the bookie signaled for the match to begin.  
  
It didn`t last long. The bigger man won easily; his opponent cursed, stood and walked away, trying not to nurse his sore arm. It wasn`t much of a fight, but it was almost Saiyajin. Almost. A Saiyajin arm-wrestling match would have taken place on a reinforced super-plastic table, and normally lasted much longer. Once he`d seen Taresu go at it for five days with an elite fighter, neither of them stopping to eat or sleep; fool had spent almost as much time in a healing tank afterwards. But Raditsu thought this was as close as such weak people could come to something as great as Saiyajin.   
  
The bookie began to shout, interrupting Raditsu`s thoughts. "Gyou wins again! Bring on the next opponent!"  
  
Raditsu took a step toward the empty stool. The bookie, a man who`s build easily matched Raditsu`s, moved into his path. "Five zeni per round, buddy, up front. Them`s the rules at my bar; winner gets thirdly percent of the bets. If you`ve got the money lay it down and play. If you don`t got it, get." Pleased with himself the man smiled, revealing a broken front tooth.   
  
Raditsu`s face darken as he considered this statement: The human was making fun of him, he was sure.  
  
Someone near the door began to clap his hands softly. "How many hours did you spend, trying to come up with that, Kentaro?"  
  
Raditsu turned toward the voice. A youth walked toward them from the front of the bar, his fists now hooked inside the pockets of his blue-jeans. He had a fine, almost fragile looking frame and was wearing a baggy, long sleeved shirt with a large orange bandanna. He hopped onto one of the backless bar stools across from the table and brushed a lock of dark hair out of his eyes.  
  
"Juunanagou!" Kentaro`s eyes narrowed.  
  
"I`ll cover him," the Jinzoningen said.  
  
"Who?" Kentaro asked.  
  
"The guy who`s standing right next to you, looking like he`s ready to rip your head off.   
  
"Bet he could do it, too," Juunanagou said thoughtfully. Then laughed, very softly.   
  
Kentaro eyed Raditsu warily, decided he could take him if the guy tried anything, and turned his attention back to Juunanagou. "You know him?"  
  
Juunanagou leaned over in his seat, elbows on his knees, his chin resting on one balled fist, mocking serious thought. "Why so many questions?" he said, "I`m your best customer; you should be glad I`m spending my money here." He paused again. "I guess I can go somewhere else..."  
  
"Five zeni a round. Winner gets thirty percent of the bets." Kentaro said quickly before Juunanagou could finish.  
  
"Of course." Juunanagou sounded bore, as though he was already tiring of this game. He took a large coin from his pocket and flipped it to Kentaro.  
  
The human caught it, and moved to the side, clearing Raditsu`s path to the empty stool. Raditsu considered Juunanagou briefly, then dismissed him as just another human and sat down.  
  
Gyou, who had been waiting impatiently offered a hand. Raditsu took it.  
  
"Don`t have too much fun," Juunanagou said from behind Raditsu.  
  
Raditsu turned toward him. "What did you say?"  
  
"The table. Its only wood; be careful not to break it."  
  
The other arm-wrestler snorted, but Kentaro looked alarmed; he`d seen the damage Juunanagou could do to furniture on his low days, if his friend was like that too...  
  
"That table`s worth one hundred zeni--"  
  
"Don`t worry so much," Juunanagou said, irritation starting to work its way into his flat voice, "I have money."   
  
Shrugging, Kentaro took his place by the table and raised his hands with the air of someone who should have been a showman.   
  
"Attention everyone! We`ve got a new opponent for Gyou to crush! Come on over, folks, place your bets!" A few more people joined the small crowd, and some (but not many; any fool knew Gyou was unbeatable) began to pass money toward Kentaro. After a few minutes, he raised his hands again and shout, "Thank you very much! And now," he lowered his eyes to Raditsu and Gyou for emphasis, "the match will being!"   
  
Gyou immediately pushed his arm against Raditsu`s, intent on quick victory. Raditsu stared at the man`s staining face, putting up no real resistance. It wasn`t even a effort to keep his arm at a 90 degree angle, and this was one of their best?  
  
"Just beat him," Juunanagou said impatiently over Raditsu`s shoulder.  
  
Raditsu was willing enough to comply, not because Juunanagou had told him to, but because he wanted the game to be over and done with so he could leave; this whole thing had been foolishness -- a waste of time.  
  
He pushed his opponents hand down lightly, making a conscious effort not to damage the table, or the man`s hand; no reason to start anything that would hinder his leaving. (or get him in trouble, but Raditsu didn`t allow that thought to finish itself.)  
  
"I`ll be damned," Gyou mumbled, looking at his fallen hand dumbfoundly. Gyou stood, bowed pleasantly enough, and joined the spectators.  
  
"My turn," Juunanagou said, jumping up and heading for the empty seat.  
  
"You?" Raditsu said with disbelief; how foolish could this kid be? "No." Raditsu turned to the door, walking quickly. What had he been thinking, anyway? Coming here, consorting with vermin -- Gods help him, he`d actually felt at home with them for a few minutes--  
  
"Saiyajin!"  
  
Raditsu froze, started to turn, caught himself, decided to wait Juunangou out, and held his position. Silents.  
  
After several minutes he gave in and turned to Juunanagou, his arms crossed and all expression covered by a sneer.  
  
Juunanagou was standing beside Gyou`s empty stool, his palms pressed against the table's surface, his eyes blazed and his lips were pressed thin in anger. "Sit down, Saiyajin," he said.  
  
"Who told you--"  
  
"Afterward."  
  
"Maybe I`ll just beat the answer out of you." No answer. Raditsu laughed, mockingly; the best cover for uncertainty. "You can`t win, you know," he said, taking his former seat.  
  
Juunanagou offered his hand -- he had to stretch to reach the big table`s center -- and Raditsu took it.   
  
"Hey!" Kentaro shouted, moving to Juunanagou side and bending over the table so they were eye to eye. "That`s five zeni a piece entry fee, pays thirty--"  
  
The Jinzoningen shot his free hand out and pushed Kentaro. Not hard, very lightly, but with enough force to send him reeling to the ground by the feet of a growing crowd of spectators. He smacked his head on the floor boards and blacked-out.   
  
Two of the lumberjacks hauled Kentaro to the corner and propped him against the wall; fights were commonplace here, a person was considered fine as long was he was breathing and not obviously bleeding to death.   
  
"Are you ready?" Juunanagou said. Raditsu nodded and took his hand.  
  
Juunanagou`s hand was perfectly smooth, but hard; it didn`t have the soft, pliable feel of Gyou`s hand.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
But instead of stopping to consider the situation, or the facts, he said "Sure," and grabbed Juunanagou`s hand tighter, hopping for a grimace or scream or crunch.   
  
Juunanagou only smiled a little self-assured half smile. "Then begin."  
  
Raditsu had intended to drive his opponent's hand through the table within the first millisecond; _That`ll wipe the grin of the little creep's face, _but it wasn`t that simple. Juunanagou was losing, his hand slipping toward the mat, but Raditsu was battling for every inch, as if he were fighting a slightly lesser Saiyajin and not just a human.  
  
_ After I win, _Raditsu decided, _we`ll have a talk. _  
  
Inches from the win; Raditsu gave one last tremendous shove, throwing the muscles in his back behind those of his shoulder and arm.  
  
Juunanagou scowled and with a flip of the wrist and fraction of his power, reversed their positions, so now the Saiyajin --_ 'Raditsu', if Gero`s data was correct _-- hand hovered just above the table's surface. He gave Raditsu a few seconds, waiting to see if he`d show more power or become Super Saiyajin, then Juunanagou tapped his hand on the mat.  
  
Raditsu withdrew his hand, resisting the urge to rub it. A faint discoloration the shape of Juunanagou`s hand was forming around Raditsu`s palm and wrist. He study Juunanagou once again, much more carefully this time, trying to find some clue to the youth`s origins, and hiding his curiosity and (fear?) uncertainty behind a Saiyajin scowl. "You are not human," was the only conclusion he drew.  
  
Juunanagou seemed to consider this, but instead of answering said, "I could say the same thing about you, Raditsu. You /are/ him, aren`t you? Son Goku`s brother?"  
  
"I am. Although his name is Kakarotto," Raditsu said, a threatening tone in his voice.  
  
Juunanagou was unimpressed. "So I`ve been told."   
  
"By who--"  
  
Juunanagou waved a hand for silence. "Drinks?" He stood and motioned toward the bar.  
  
"Gratefully," Raditsu said, following Juunanagou to the counter.  
  
"Say, Sharri!" Juunanagou called to the bartender, a red-headed, strongly built woman of about thirty-five.  
  
"Hey, Juunanagou! Long time no see," she shouted from the other end of the counter. "What`ve you been doing with yourself?"  
  
"I`ve been busy." Juunanagou changed the subject. "How about a round for me and this foreigner."  
  
"Sure thing!" She drew two mugs from the tap and sat them in front of Raditsu and Juunanagou. "Foreigner, huh?" she said. "Where`s he from, Western Capital? I hear they`re wearing their hair long in Western Capital these days."  
  
"No," Juunanagou said, wrapping his hands around the glass mug. "He`s from Vejiitasei."  
  
"Whatever you say, hon," Sharri said, concern showing faintly on her face. _Well, after so many years alone in the woods anyone would be a little off._ She moved away to tend other customers.  
  
"It`s true I don`t have much data on you, Saiyajin," he said, not looking at Raditsu. "But I was relatively sure you were dead."   
  
"So was I."  
  
"And...?" Juunanagou said.  
  
Raditsu slammed his fist on the counter in real anger. Even so, there was an element of necessary control that all powerful beings learn early in life: the thick wooden plank shook but didn`t splinter. "'And' what? It doesn`t concern you."  
  
Something dangerous flashed in Juunanagou`s eyes; Raditsu didn`t notice. "That`s true," Juunanagou said indifferently. He finished his drink and signaled for another.  
  
Sharri, knowing Juunanagou`s habits, drew a pitcher from the tap. Juunanagou didn`t come to the bar offend; at most he only showed up twice a year. And she knew enough about such things to be certain he wasn`t an alcoholic; _Thank Kami, but when he gets it into his head to drink, he drinks! _Sharri had thought at first that he came to socialize, but before tonight he`d never talk to anyone beyond the most necessary amenities.  
  
She sat the pitcher in front of him. Juunanagou didn`t make eye contact; you didn`t have to know how to read minds to know what she was thinking._ She shouldn`t bother, I don`t need to deal with it./ Only one person had the right to worry about him /and that bitch is off playing the little wife and mother, _and (besides himself) she was the only one Juunanagou wanted to concern himself with.   
  
After Sharri had left he said, more to himself than Raditsu, "They`re not so bad, not all of them, did you know that? But I still don`t understand it."  
  
Juunanagou looked directly at Raditsu. Raditsu didn`t like being stared at, no Saiyajin did; it was an open threat and an insult, but he didn`t allow himself look away.  
  
"Saiyajin, do you know where you are?"  
  
The simpleness of this question caught Raditsu off guard. "I`m on Earth." _Gods, if it could have been any other planet._ "Obviously," he added, realizing how foolish that sounded. "I have seen maps of the planet, but it was a great many years ago."  
  
Juunanagou seemed to find this amusing. "Yes, of course. But more specifically, you`re in Jingle Village.  
  
"Now, Saiyajin, one type of people come to Jingle Village... willingly, away. Do you know what kind that is?" he lead forward, seeming to wait expectantly for Raditsu`s answer.  
  
Raditsu glared back darkly, debating if he`d been laughed at and what to do about it.  
  
"Relax," Juunanagou, somewhat annoyed. "Try your drink."  
  
Raditsu didn`t mind that idea at all; in fact, he couldn`t remember the last time he`d needed shit-faced more badly. He picked up the mug and took a large swallow. He sat it down quickly, trying not to make a face._ Damn vermin piss-water_ It tasted disgusting and left an awful favor in his mouth; nothing like the good stuff the Saiyajin made.   
  
"Acquired taste, I suppose." Juunanagou picked up the thread of his old topic. "The strong kind of humans live here. This is one of wildest places on Earth; no roads, no electricity except in the few self-powered capsule houses. No more than three-hundred people, counting the lumberjacks, and most of them leave within a year of coming. Only the ones that were born here ever stay, they`re the strongest. Nothing beside a Jinzoningen or Saiyajin, understand, but they do try."  
  
"You say that was though 'trying' could keep me from decimating the whole town within a minute if I decided to." Raditsu changed his mind about his drink.  
  
"Of course it couldn`t," Juunanagou said, "But where would the fun be in that?"   
  
Juunanagou shrugged and re-filled his mug from the pitcher. After an affirmative nod from Raditsu, he filled the Saiyajin`s as well.  
  
"We`re Jinzoningen, Juuhachigou and I. Machines from a human base, understand?"  
  
"Then you`re human," Raditsu said, mildly disappointed and fully disgusted with the situation.   
  
"No," Juunanagou said, voice angry and condescending and soft all at the same time. "Jinzoningen. Jinzoningen are superior to these," he swept his arm out in a gesture encompassing every person in the room, every human on Earth. "In every way; the most remarkable gifts of Jinzoningen being great power and agelessness. Something they`ll never have; I saw to that myself when I killed Gero. We are not human. Much as the bitch would like to pretend."  
  
Something, it seemed to Raditsu, caught the Jinzoningen`s attention suddenly, though he couldn`t say what; Juunanagou`s eyes widened, very slightly, and his head darted toward the left wall. Had the wooded planks not been there Juunanagou would have been looking at the street. He turned back to Raditsu.  
  
"Just wait until you see this guy. He`s a kick -- ten times worse than your   
brother -- I swear." He spun his stool around so it faced the door. "Just wait," he repeated.  
  
Raditsu emptied and refilled his glass waiting.  
  
The sturdy pine door opened (no swinging, waist high saloon door this) and a huge man (at least, Raditsu thought it was a man), resembling Frankenstein's monster, sans neckbolts, just distantly enough to avoid copyright litigation, entered the tavern.  
  
"Hachigou," Juunanagou called to him. The man came over, walking with a long wooded gait.  
  
"Juunanagou!" he said in a deadpan, yet friendly voice. He took a long look at the other, slightly drunk Jinzoningen, his glass and the half empty pitcher.  
  
"You`re being bad." Hachan finally concluded, after processing all the clues.  
  
"So? I thought you said I was bad."  
  
"You are," Hachan said agreeably.  
  
"See," Juunanagou said to Raditsu, as though Hachan wasn`t there. "You can`t even talk to him.  
  
"Hachigou`s Jinzoningen too, but he`s all mechanical, no biological base. Very old model; slow processing and low social comprehension, almost no power -- he`s stronger than most humans, of course -- though that`s not saying much.  
  
"Hachigou`s a pacifist," Juunanagou added, in way of conversation. He turned around to fill his mug.  
  
"A what?" Raditsu said, studying his beer intently. Normally he wouldn`t have dreamed of admitting ignorance so easily, especially to a human (and he still wasn`t at all convinced Juunanagou wasn`t human) but now it seemed all right.  
  
"Being a pacifist," Juunanagou said, "means you don`t believe in fighting. Do you, big guy?"  
  
"Hurting people is bad," Hachan intoned confidently.   
  
"See, what did I tell you?" Juunanagou said, much louder than he had been before and well on his way to being fall down drunk. "Tell me, Hachigou, is this guy here," he motioned to Raditsu, "Good or bad?"  
  
Hachan studied Raditsu carefully, starting at the tip of the Saiyajin`s spiky hair and working his way down. Hachan was a very good judge of character, everyone told him so, and he was about to conclude that Raditsu was very bad -- that much showed in his face -- when he came to the brown furry tail swinging behind Raditsu`s chair.  
  
"Hey!" Hachan shouted happily, loud enough to make the glass windows rattle in their panes and a dozen heads snap in the three non-humans` direction. "You have a tail like Son Goku!"   
  
Juunanagou sighed and wondered why he hadn`t seen this coming.   
  
Raditsu`s tail wrapped itself around his waste cautiously. "I do. He`s my brother."  
  
"Really? Are you like him?"  
  
"Now what kind of question is that?" Juunanagou interrupted.  
  
"Well, when I said you and Juhachigou looked just alike but you said you were nothing like her and called her bad names so I wondered if it was like that with everyone`s family-- " Juunanagou`s face had begun to redden angrily, "But repeating that was bad, wasn`t it? I am sorry. I was only trying to understand."  
  
"You can`t understand, you`re incapable of it. Idiot." Juunanagou said, before turning back to his drink. "And I don`t care about that bitch and her midget fetish."  
  
Raditsu had once again drained his mug over the course of this conversation. "No, I`m not at all like him," he said, more for his own benefit than Hachan`s.  
  
"That`s too bad," Hachan said, glad to be talking to some one instead of standing in the uncomfortable silence behind Juunanagou. "Son Goku was very good." Then, as thought to make up for it he said, "My name is Hachan. What`s yours?"  
  
"Since when do you even come here?" Juunanagou said, frustrate at being interrupted. "I thought bars were bad."  
  
"They are," Hachan said, pleased his fellow Jinzoningen finally seeing the light. "I am looking for Kentaro."  
  
"He`s over there," Juunanagou said, pointing to the far end of the room, where Kentaro was still propped against the wall. "Now shoo."  
  
Hachan walked to the man, and bending over him, took Kentaro`s shoulder in his huge mitts, and so gently, shook him.  
  
"They always change their names, don`t they?" Raditsu said after Hachan left for the General Store, steadying Kentaro as they walked. "They change their names then they start acting stupid."  
  
"That one doesn`t matter, anyway."  
  
There was a long stretch of silence, not so much awkward as apathetic. Sharri refilled the pitcher twice, while they starred at the colored rows bottles on shelves behind the bar counter.  
  
"'Midget fetish?" Raditsu said after a while.   
  
"You know the guy, I think. Kuririn. The short one who plays tag-a-long to Son-- Kakarotto."  
  
"Oh, that guy," Raditsu said. "Gods, I wish I`d killed him."  
  
"Ah well, she`ll be back soon anyway. He`s weak like the rest of them, he`ll die. I`m leaving now."  
  
They left the tavern; Juunanagou heading for his cabin and Raditsu for the woods where the lion should have been sleeping.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Animals can`t be expected to understand everything.  
  
The lion had come back to the cave at dusk, hoping to find the Ally.  
  
And when he hadn`t been there, the lion had done the most natural thing in the world, something he`d done dozens of times before; he went looking for Raditsu.  
  
The Ally had taken a wide, well traveled game trail, so the scent was easy to follow. And though it did head in a direction that seemed dangerous for some reason the lion couldn`t quite remember, it seemed to him if the Ally had went that way it must be safe.  
  
No one can be expected to understand everything.  
  
  



	7. Shot

**Chapter Seven**  
  
It was too bad, Raditsu thought, walking along the game trail, that the drinks didn`t have the staying power of the good stuff Saiyajin made. He would have been more than willing to remain blissfully wasted indefinitely, but the beer hadn`t been able to hold up to his metabolism and what little buzz Raditsu had developed earlier was already fading. Still, he suspected that weak alcohol or no, he was going to wake up with a hangover fit for an Oozaru; that seemed to be the way things worked.  
  
Raditsu`s senses were more blurred than he thought, and he didn`t smell the blood as soon as he might have sober. When he finally did catch the scent, he was very close to its source, the smell so strong it blocked all other scents out, but he didn`t pay much attention to it. Things died all the time; that was a basic fact. It was nothing for him to worry about.  
  
Raditsu would always count it as chance that he ducked under a low-hanging branch when he did, but the branch hadn`t been there ten minutes earlier. If he hadn`t lowered his head right then he would have walked past the lion and might not have found the animal for days and by then the golden mane would have been long gone. But Dende was good at his job, so the branch _was_ there, and Raditsu _did_ lower his head, and his gaze brushed the ground for the necessary half a second, and he saw what he needed to see; a series of large, disinted paw prints, round, with five digits on the front feet and four on the back, all overlaid with drops of blood.  
  
His eyes darted along the game path, picking out the lion`s tracks from those of dozens of other animals. He didn`t feel one bit tipsy now; every sense was painfully aware. Here the prints became irregular -- the animal must have had trouble walking here -- farther ahead, Raditsu saw as he followed the tracks, the lion had finally collapsed and crawled off the trail into the brush, apparently intent on hiding. Blood no longer covered the trail in small drops, now it was soaked with crimson pools. It never ceased to amaze Raditsu that a living thing could hold so much blood.  
  
He stopped where the lion had left the trail and studied the surrounding brush carefully until he found what he was looking for: a patch of light brown fur, about twenty feet from the trail.  
  
Raditsu was beside the lion in less time than it took to draw a breath.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Juunanagou walked back to his cabin slowly, taking the scenic route while he considered the night`s _events. Another Saiyajin! Don`t those beasts ever stay dead?_ He would have been better off killing Raditsu, he knew, eliminating any chances (however small) of yet _another_ person becoming stronger than himself. _But one must have drinking buddies._  
  
Juunanagou pondered briefly on how Son or Vejita might have reacted if he had killed the Saiyajin, or if he did now. Raditsu`s ki would be ridiculously easy to find from here -- he didn`t seem to have the common sense to suppress it.  
  
A new thought struck him;_ Do they know Raditsu is alive?_ It seemed unlikely to Juunanagou that they did; they`d have to really look to find the ki of someone as weak as Raditsu from their part of the planet, but he saw no reason to inform Son and his cohorts of Raditsu`s visit to Jingle Town.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Raditsu knew about killing.  
  
He didn`t know the internal physiology of Terrain carnivores, and he certainly didn`t know anything about healing. Why should he need to? If you or one of your crew were injured, you hit a button on your scouter, a medic popped you into a healing tank and either you lived or you died; there wasn`t anything else to it. Of course, if a doctor gave you pills you took them, and if someone was bleeding, you tried to put pressure on the wound, if there was time -- that was common sense -- but that was the extent of his knowledge.  
  
But he knew about killing; oh yes, and he knew about dying.  
  
Without help -- real professional help -- the animal was as good as dead. Raditsu could see that.  
  
The lion was lying on his side, eyes shut, panting like an over-heated dog. The lion`s skin had been sherded by buck-shot. His rear-leg and abdomen were covered with drying blood, like someone had poured a bucket of rusty-red paint on his fur and lathered it in.  
  
Raditsu touched the lion`s side and the golden mane opened his eyes, anger, pain and fear all clear in his dilated pupils, but above all that, resignation. He bared his teeth at Raditsu and tried to roll off his side. Raditsu pinned the lion as gently as he could, afraid any movement might make the injury worse.  
  
/Now what?/ Ask Kakarotto, or some human for help? Someone would know a doctor who could take care of animals, too; the doctors on Furiza`s bases treated dozens of species, his animal couldn`t be so different.  
  
But Raditsu wouldn`t crawl like that -- he couldn`t. You didn`t ask vermin for help; they`d laugh at him, want to know what he was doing worrying himself over a dumb animal, or worse, pity him. Then he`d do something stupid like killing them and Kakarotto would --  
  
_ Kakarotto._  
  
Oh, all the Gods forbid that things would ever come to asking little brother for help! The fool would grin that idiot grin and ask him how he liked it on Earth, and that it really wasn`t that bad here, was it? and the truth was that it wasn`t bad at all, that for a while Raditsu had felt like he belonged here -- that he was home -- _BUT DAMNIT THIS WASN`T WHAT SAIYAJIN DID!_  
  
_ Yes, Son Goku would help -- he`d try, anyway. Because Son Goku was good, Son Goku had never raised a hand against someone who didn`t deserve it, and Son Goku always looked after those who were weaker than _ him. Son would help, if Raditsu asked, but he wouldn`t ask. _Never._  
  
_ Then what?_ The lion, using everything he had left, forced out a pitifully weak growl; there was a gurgling sound under the rumble which suggested there was something wet in his lungs that didn`t belong there.  
  
Raditsu removed his hands, afraid the pressure, which he had thought to be light (he wasn`t sure about that now) was making some unseen injury worse.  
  
The lion rolled slowly to his belly, squeezing his eyes shut and clumping his fangs together against pain. The lion tried to stand but couldn`t -- Raditsu didn`t think his back legs were working right -- gave up and began to drag himself deeper into the brush.  
  
Raditsu grabbed a handful of fur, not really knowing what he meant to do only that the animal shouldn`t be moving. He didn`t think, anyway.  
  
The lion screamed. It was a perfectly natural sound for the golden mane to make when cornered; other animals do it, too, rabbits for instance, sometimes even dogs, but Raditsu hadn`t had any idea the golden mane was capable of such a sound; it frightened him and he didn`t understand why.  
  
Their eyes locked, and there was a moment of perfect, almost telepathic understanding between the two. Raditsu understood what the lion wanted as well as -- better -- than he would have had the lion been able to put it to words.  
  
Raditsu let go of the lion. He walked out of the lion`s range of sight and scent, but not so far away that Raditsu couldn`t hear anything that happened near the animal.  
  
The lion collapsed almost blissfully, and returned to the business of dying silently. He knew he was finished and it was right to him to take himself as far away from others as he could; the scent of blood brought every enemy there was, it was better to not put the Ally in such danger.  
  
Raditsu knew what the lion needed. It was easy for a fighter to understand; the animal didn`t want physical comfort, and he didn`t want any half-competent treatment Raditsu might apply. He wanted to be alone.   
  
It was blatantly obvious that the lion had been shot. Some lowly warrior-want-to-be had shot _his_ animal -- who could have ripped out the throats of a dozen of their kind without pause for breath -- with one of their cheater weapons.   
  
Raditsu knew what he would do next; wait for the lion to die on his own, in his own time, as the beast had the right to do, while making sure no other animals came around to hassle him. And Raditsu wouldn`t entertain any ideas of the animal surviving. Then he`d get started.  
  
First, he would hunt down the coward who`d shot the lion, only he would tell himself he wasn`t doing because of any emotional attachment to the animal. Then he would introduce this fellow to a new realm of pain.  
  
Then? Why then, he would do what Saiyajin do best.  
  
Raditsu could destroy a good many cities before little brother caught wind of it, he was sure. A billion people with luck; a good day`s work.  
  



	8. In the Sky Palace

**Chapter Eight**  
  
Raditsu couldn`t feel his heart beating. It wasn`t a new sensation, but after being alive for so long it felt odd. _So I`m dead again. Beautiful._  
  
He didn`t bother to get up; the guides would move him along to Enma`s desk and back to Hell soon enough. But he had a few minutes now for his thoughts, maybe, a chance to study Hades faultless blue sky which, when he considered it, looked a lot like Earth's. It was much quieter this time, but he supposed things must have slowed down in the capital city of the dead after the last of the Saiyajin were gone.  
  
Maybe Kakarotto had read his mind and killed him in his sleep -- Raditsu wouldn`t have put it past him. _Either that or I had a poorly timed heart attack._  
  
_ If it was the boy, he jumped the gun,_ Raditsu thought. Had the lion died, he would have killed the gunman; that was non-negotiable, but he wouldn`t have done the rest. _Probably not, anyway._  
  
Resigning himself to what he felt he had no power over -- perhaps he could hold some semblance of Saiyajin dignity this time around -- he stood and looked for the end of the check-in line. And saw the palace, much too small to be Enma`s, the butterfly garden, the palm trees and the Namekjin.  
  
Which is to say, Raditsu saw the Namekjin`s back; his young gangly arm holding a staff that was as old as the Earth itself, his dark cape flapped lightly in the soft breeze that blew out of Kami`s palace to every corner of the Earth, making reeds dance in one place and blowing great cedars over at another.  
  
"Sorry about the rough trip. I haven`t had as much practice as I should with that little trick." He chuckled uncertainly. "Most of the people I speak with fly up here on their own." Dende turned to face Raditsu, smiling willingly, if not a bit self-consciously, the tip of one fang peeking out from under his upper lip.  
  
Though Raditsu took this in quickly, none of it really penetrated; his head felt distant, clouded. He noted the sigil on the front of Dende`s ropes and said the first thing that popped into his head, "Why would the god of Earth be Namekjin?"  
  
"Ah well, most Kami are foreigners. Keeps us impartial that way, I`m told." He seemed to consider that briefly, raising his hand to his jaw and tapping a nail which was very nearly a claw against one of his longer teeth thoughtfully. "But that`s not important right now," Dende said. "Would you like me to take a look at that hand?" he asked, pointing toward the Raditsu`s balled right fist; the broken bones had healed crookedly, giving it an oddly bunched and certainly painful look. "Your body`s still on Earth, but I can heal it just as well here. You`re not dead, by the way; I`m sure you were wondering, everyone always does."  
  
He took a step toward Raditsu, and as if on cue, the Saiyajin took two steps backward and raised both fists. "I`m fine."  
  
"You shouldn't worry, Raditsu," Dende said, "you`re much stronger than I am. Although I`d advise you to keep your nature in check, Saiyajin." There was a very little bit of bitterness in these words, as Dende`s thoughts skipped back to the Namekjin Vejita had killed all those years ago. "You`ll be wanting the dragon balls soon, I think." Then before Raditsu could respond, or even begin to consider what Dende had said, "Are you sure about that hand? Looks painful."   
  
"It doesn`t hurt," Raditsu said, almost before Dende had finished speaking, his answer as automatic and instinctual as breathing, and as well taught as speech.  
  
"You shouldn't lie to Gods."  
  
"I can take it, then," Raditsu said.  
  
"I have no doubt."  
  
A thought, surely foolish, Raditsu believed, and a good bit more desperate than he liked, came to him. "You`re a healer, then?"  
  
"I am. Why?" Dende said, knowing full well.  
  
Raditsu backtracked. "No--" He stopped himself, took a deep breath, raised himself to his full height and crossed his arms; putting on a show of pride before swallowing it. "If you`re so eager to help, Kamisama, then why don`t you fix my animal?" he said, sneering to show less than nothing was expected from this lanky Namekjin, and carefully phrasing it like a rhetorical question; not a request.  
  
"The lion, you mean? Oh, I've already taken care of that. You mustn't kill either of them, though. Keep that in mind, Raditsu; it`s important."  
  
"Does everyone on this stupid planet now my name?" Raditsu mumbled to himself.  
  
Dende picked up Raditsu`s words, and though he knew he hadn`t been addressed, it was a good opening. "I know a good bit more about you than your name; how you died, for instance." He paused, giving Raditsu a chance to speak up, when the Saiyajin said nothing, Dende went on; "I must say, I don`t have the first clue as to what to do with you."  
  
"Are you finished yet? I`ve got work to do." He consider Dende`s words about the 'lion' to be nothing more than a brush off, and now all he wanted was for the Namekjin to finish with him -- kill him, send him back to Earth, whatever -- just so he could leave.  
  
Dende wasn`t one to demand respect over personal opinion, but such rudeness would have knocked even the nicest person off base. "I don`t think I like you, Saiyajin --"  
  
"Few Namekjin do."  
  
Dende pressed on, trying to tell the Saiyajin the most important words he would ever hear and becoming steadily more frustrated as it became clear Raditsu wasn`t listening. "Only _listen_; it`s better now. All the millions from before still count, but only because they`re still here." Dende motioned at his head. "The blood`s gone from your hands, only the original intent's still there. This makes you no less a despicable person, and just as Hell bound, but it`s no longer hopless because you haven`t done anything unforgivable this time. Yet."  
  
It wasn`t any big surprise, Raditsu told himself, he`d known that he was going back from the beginning, but still... "I`m not helpless but I`m still Hell bound? I haven`t laid hands on a signal vermin in almost a year! I`d dearly love to know what else I can do."  
  
Dende shook his head. "But that`s such a little part of it! Thought and attitude and intent are almost as important as actions." He sighed. "And I`m trying, Saiyajin, you know that? Harder than I ever have in my life; I really am, but everything in you is black and dead and broken and I don`t know how to fix it."  
  
"Then what do I do?" Raditsu asked, and it was impossible to tell if he was joking or demanding or pleading.  
  
"Be sorry. Just be so sorry. Can you do that?"  
  
"Why should I?" Coldly, so desperately coldly Dende shivered.  
  
That was all the Namekjin could take; his head and stomach hurt and his soul ached. A quick flick of his wrist and Raditsu was gone.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Raditsu was on his feet, ready for a fight even before he was awake, and by the time he had regained full consciousness, he wasn`t sure why. Racking his mind, he found a very faint memory of a thinly built Namekjin with big stick, _Only a dream._  
  
_ The lion!_ The previous day came back to him, right up until he`d passed out. Raditsu slowed his breathing, listening for any sounds--   
  
_Lion? Where did that come from?_ he wondered. But it wasn`t important now because someone -- two people, maybe -- were headed toward them.  
  
Raditsu lowered himself to crouch, and move toward the lion, intending to met the humans. These were the hunters, no doubt. Well, he`d see about them.  
  
_ Just throw it all away._  
  
_The hell?_ Raditsu shook his head briefly before continuing to move forward.  
  
_ You mustn't kill them._  
  
_Who had said that?_ It seemed important, but Raditsu couldn`t remember for sure.  
  
There wasn`t time to consider it now. Two forms, blurred by the darkness, one small and one very big emerged from the brush. Raditsu sprung.  
  
_____________________________  
  
Learning was still necessary, Dende knew. Understanding, empathy, being able to think like such people, in as much as they _could_ be understood, was essential to being a good Kami.  
  
So he continued to, and believed, albeit uncertainly, that he`d set things up well for Raditsu`s happy ending.  
  
Dende was very young and very new at his job.  
  
  



	9. Hachan and Suno

**Chapter Nine  
**   
"Where`s it at?" Suno asked, stepping forward and lowering her hood to see better.  
  
Hachan stuck out a cautioning arm, and Suno stopped. "There," Hachan shouted over the wind, pointing toward a snow covered thicket. He dropped the sled's rope and it sank down in the gritty new snow.  
  
Hachan`s enhanced eyes saw through the blowing snow and early morning darkness, and he spotted the semi-conscious lion easily.  
  
Leaving Suno behind, Hachan moved toward the lion, and that was when Raditsu hit him, jumping from the bush so quickly that Suno wasn`t sure what had happened until it was long over. Raditsu recognized Hachan a spilt-second before he hit the Jinzoningen, and may have stopped had there been time, but it was too late.  
  
Hachan raised his arm to block, and this doubtlessly saved his life. Raditsu`s fist hit Hachan`s wrist, breaking it off and sending it bouncing along the snow covered earth. The mechanical hand hit a tree trunk and fell to the ground spasming briefly, the dying wires sending out a few weak sparks before becoming still.  
  
Hachan took a long look at the stub of his arm, before turning his eyes to the Saiyajin. "Why did you do that, Raditsu?"  
  
It was clear enough that these weren`t the ones, everything else aside Hachan had been with him at the tavern. But two people, one a complete stranger and the other just as good as, apparently on the blood trail of his lion, dragging a sled which seemed the perfect size for the animal`s body; what more could be expected? Nothing in Raditsu`s experience suggested to him that they might have come with any intention other than cruelty.  
  
"Go away, Hachan, or I`ll kill you."  
  
"I`m sure you`d try!" Suno said, stepping forward. Hachan laid a hand on her shoulder, warning her to stay close. "That`s how you people work--" She noticed Raditsu`s tail, its tip lashing angrily, and she paled. "Goku? Are you Son Goku?"  
  
"Of course not!" Raditsu said, personal insult added to anger.  
  
"Then who are you?"  
  
All the noise, and the scent of nearby strangers had frightened the lion even more. He lifted his head, and without wasting energy on baring his teeth, began dragging himself back into hiding.  
  
Suno headed toward the lion, sick of waiting, and Raditsu moved into her path. "Don`t touch my lion," he growled, his tail bristling. Hachan moved to Suno`s side protectively.  
  
"But he`s hurt!" Suno said, desperate to help the animal, but certain she couldn`t force her way through. The tailed-person had hurt Hachan and Suno`d never seen anyone powerful enough to do that, except maybe Goku. Not that many people had found cause to strike the good-natured Jinzoningen.  
  
"That`s not your business."  
  
"It is!" Suno said, raising herself to her full height, which wasn`t much. "It`s my job to protect him from people like you. Killing one of those lions is a felony, you know. If he dies you`re going to prison. So you`d better let me through!"  
  
Raditsu might have laughed -- he would like to see them try to lock him up, but right now nothing seemed funny. "You`re not here to help."  
  
"Why else would I be here? Not that a killer like you could understand that."  
  
"You don`t know what you`re talking about!" Raditsu shouted, before he realized she thought he`d hurt the lion and nothing else. "I didn`t do it. It was one of you vermin."  
  
"I don`t have time for this," Suno said, keeping her voice down in respect for the lion`s frayed nerves. "Let me through."  
  
Raditsu didn`t move.  
  
"Look!" she said, speaking slowly and as carefully as impatience would allow, for it had become clear that the tailed-person was not only very powerful, he was also stupid and/or crazy. All this ranting about them shooting the lion -- nonsense -- she certainly hadn`t done it, and Hachan wouldn`t have hurt a fly for his own life, then this about the lion being his. Suno knew for a fact that wasn`t true; she microchipped the lion herself when he was just a cub and had been tracked him ever since. And taming an adult, wild-born lion was impossible; she`d tried. "Where`s the harm in me taking him? If we get him back in time he might even live. He`s dead if he stays here."  
  
"You intend to heal the lion, then?"  
  
"I can`t by myself, but I can try to get help."  
  
It might be worth considering, Raditsu thought. After all, if she tried to pull any tricks... well if she knew what was good for her she just wouldn`t. Raditsu moved to the side, giving Suno room to pass but instead of heading to the lion, Suno turned her back to Raditsu and walked away. She retrieved Hachan`s hand and returned it to him.  
  
"Can it be fixed?" she asked Hachan anxiously.  
  
"I think so. It can," Hachan said. He took the hand, its exposed circuits cooling in the early morning air and tucked it under his damaged arm. "It`s okay."  
  
"Thank you, Hachan. This shouldn`t take long."  
  
"Hurry up!" Raditsu shouted from beside the lion. He had been trying to comfort the golden mane by patting his head and scratching between his shoulder blades (much of the hide below was a blood mess). Suno and Hachan hadn`t seen. Raditsu was standing now.  
  
She approached the lion, Hachan began to follow her but she said "It`s all right, Hachan. Stay here."  
  
"You," Suno said to Raditsu. "You`re strong. Hold him. Just get his head and front leg -- yes, that`s right." Suno got to her knees beside the lion and looking over his flank said, "My kamisama, he`s been here for hours. What the hell have you been doing? Sitting here?"  
  
Raditsu considered releasing the lion. He probably had enough strength left to rip the woman`s throat out. "How`d you know he was here?"  
  
"Hachan was built with a tracking system. We just inject the chips under their skin and it works great. The lion`s barely moved in ten hours, thought we should check it out." She took a vial filled with clear liquid and a large syringe out of her bag. Suno uncapped the needle and holding the vial upside down filled the syringe. "He`s one of twenty-seven, I think it is, breedable males in the area; can`t afford to lose him. Move over a bit, I need to get at that leg." She injected the sedative, set the cap on the ground and slid the needle into it carefully, then backed away, motioning over her shoulder for Hachan to bring the sled closer.  
  
"Thanks to you," Suno said to Raditsu, "Poor Hachan can`t lift the lion. What do you suggest we do?"  
  
"That you shut your mouth before I do it for you," Raditsu said, and bent over.   
  
Raditsu picked up the lion -- "Keep his back straight," Suno cautioned -- and laid him on the sled. Suno lashed the lion to the sled, checking each strap to make sure it was tight but not hurting the animal. When she looked up a few minutes later Raditsu was gone.  
  
Chapter Eight Index Home Chapter Ten  



	10. The Compound

**Chapter Ten  
**   
The compound was the only place within a hundred miles with electricity, indoor plumbing and full phone services. A ten-foot tall wire fence surrounded the enclosure. Inside the fence two long, twin capsule buildings faced each other, and a smaller one set near the ends of the first two, forming an open-ended box. There was a wooden house in the middle of the box. Wire runs dotted the rest of the compound, and as Raditsu looked through the mesh, he could see dozens of glowing eyes watching him from inside their sleeping boxes.  
  
A herd of deer roamed the grounds, and they approached Raditsu, hoping he`d enter through the gate with a handout. Some were orphaned yearlings who bounded from one drift to another, enjoying their first snow, others were permanently maimed, limping or missing eyes or bearing scars. A three-legged black-maned lion crawled out of his sleeping box, moving with a slow, lunging gait. He set down by the bars of his enclosure, leaning to his good leg`s side and watched the deer play in the snow.  
  
____________________________  
  
The Compound, Raditsu standing in front of the gate came into Hachan`s and Suno`s view. Raditsu crossed his arms and waited impatiently for them to come closer.  
  
"Look there," Hachan said. "How did he know where to come?"  
  
Suno thought to tell him that he was too naive for his own good but didn`t; that would have hurt Hachan`s feelings and there was nothing in the world she wished to do less. "He just followed us until he knew where we were headed," she said. "He`s trying to scare us, "_and doing a good job of it_, but she didn`t say that either. "How do you know him?"  
  
"I met him at Kentaro`s last night. He`s Son Goku`s brother."  
  
"Really?" Suno said, studying Raditsu from the distance. "They don`t look a thing alike, do they? Was Goku there, too?"  
  
"No, but Juunanagou was."  
  
"Is that why you took so long?"  
  
"Yes. We were talking," Hachan said.  
  
"You should stay away from that guy. He`s no good."  
  
"I know," he agreed, but didn`t say he would; there were some things real humans couldn`t understand.  
  
They entered the compound without speaking to Raditsu, and the Saiyajin followed them inside wordlessly.  
  
_____________________________  
  
The lion had been moved from the sled to a gurney, and wheeled inside the clinic. They stood beside him in the hallway.  
  
"You can`t stay with him," Suno said.  
  
"Why the hell not?"  
  
"Because you`re big, and you`re dirty and you`ll only be in the way."  
  
"What about him?" Raditsu shouted indignantly. He pointed at Hachan, who was head and shoulders taller than Raditsu.  
  
"Hachan doesn`t come in the operating room either," Suno said.  
  
"Blood`s bad," Hachan intoned, "I don`t like it."  
  
"I`m coming in!"  
  
"Fine. Be my guest, but when the lion dies of infection don`t blame me."  
  
Raditsu knew how dangerous infections could be, and he knew they were painful. He spun around and stomped out of the building, slamming the door behind him. Raditsu didn`t trust himself around Suno anymore; he`d end up doing something he`d pay for later.  
___________________________  
  
Raditsu was hungry, but he guessed if he killed one of the fenced-in deer the human would get angry. Then maybe she wouldn`t help the lion. He`d just go find something else to eat... but not until Suno was done with his lion.   
  
The deer, eternally hopeful that his pockets held an apple or peanut or slice or bread, came up to Raditsu. He growled and waved his arms, rushing the deer. The semi-tame animals fled to the far side of the compound and watched him nervously.  
  
Bored, he moved down the rows of animal runs. Passing other cages that held no interest to him, Raditsu walked to the front of the black mane`s enclosure and clapped his hand, thinking this had always caught his lion`s attention, so maybe it would work with this one, too.   
  
He`d seen the black mane earlier, and believed him to be docile. Raditsu thought the lion would hobble out of his sleeping box slowly, walk to the front of the bars, maybe to beg for food like the deer had. Instead the lion rushed Raditsu, moving much faster than he had expected and threw his whole weight against the cage. He stuck a paw in-between the bars, trying to snag Raditsu.  
  
The Saiyajin stepped out of his reach, studying the black mane. The animal had lost his rear foot somehow -- if Suno tried to hobble his lion, Raditsu decided, she`d pay.  
  
Raditsu went back inside the clinic, leaving wet boot prints and melting snow on the clean tile floor. The door to the operating room was locked. Raditsu debated pounding on the door, or smashing it down, but decided the human might screw up if he interrupted her.  
  
"Raditsu?" Hachan called from an adjoining room. Having nothing better to do and hoping to kill some time, Raditsu followed the voice.  
  
Hachan was sitting at an over sized desk. A lamp, its neck craned downward, shone on his broken hand and wrist, the artificial skin rolled back from the damaged area, like the sleeve of a tight fitting sweater. The lamp was the only light in the otherwise dim room. A small toolbox sat on the desk by Hachan`s arm.  
  
Hachan was using a small blowtorch, no bigger than a man`s finger, to weld the cables that worked as his muscles back into place. He finished with the torch and put it back in the toolbox, then rolled the skin back into place, and taking out a thin needle began to sew the artificial skin back together with small, even stitches.  
  
"What`s taking her so long?" Raditsu demand.  
  
"Gun shots are hard to fix," Hachan said. There was a clear seam were the skin had been torn which would always be there, but other than that Hachan thought there was no permanent damage. He put his tools away, stood, and headed out of the room. "I have to go feed the animals. You can come, if you like...?"  
  
"As if I had nothing better to do!"  
  
"What else are you going to do?" Hachan asked, not making fun, just curious.  
  
"You don`t need to worry about it," Raditsu said, annoyed that he didn`t have anything better to do.  
  
Hachan left the clinic building and headed for the storehouse.  
  
Raditsu believed he had slept through the night, but he felt tired. He sat down against the far wall, folding his legs, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, and after a while, slept.  
  
_____________________________  
  
"Raditsu?" Suno called uncertainly from the hallway. She had heard him come in but not leave, and so knew him to be somewhere in the building. The surgery had been simple. It was funny, the lion had seemed more severally injured in the field. In fact, when Suno really thought about it, she was sure the golden mane had had spinal damage, but she wasn`t going to argue with a gift of Providence (which was exactly what it was).  
  
Now, while peeking into one darkened room after another looking for Raditsu, she thought of going to get Hachan, but then decided it was stupid; this Raditsu fellow had shown himself to be strong and mean, but it wasn`t like he was a murdered. Besides, supposing he /was/ dangerous, there was no reason to put Hachan in harm`s way.  
  
"Raditsu?" she called again, opening another door and looking inside. She heard someone breathing and reaching along the wall, flipped the light switch on.  
  
Stepping inside as the room brightened, Suno saw Raditsu asleep in the counter, his back against the wall. His tail laid across his lap, its tip twitching from time to time as though in dream.  
  
"Raditsu?"  
  
"What?" he said without lifting his head or opening his eyes. His voice didn`t sound slurred by sleep, but Suno couldn`t tell if he was awake or not.  
  
"I just thought you`d like to know; I can`t be sure yet, but I think the lion will live. He`ll most likely be crippled for the rest of his life, though."  
  
"You don`t know what you`re talking about. He`ll be fine. The Namekjin promised." His tail began to lash against the floor, smashing porcelain title to dust with every stroke as he continued to sleep talk, completely unaware of what he was saying. "I don`t want to go back there. A Kami can`t lie, don`t you think?"  
  
"I-I don`t know," Suno said, backing out of the room slowly. She`d been a little frightened before, but only because it was natural when only in a large building with a stranger, but the way he was talking now scared her.  
  
She closed the door as quietly as possible and, trying not to run, wheeled the lion out of the clinic.  
  
  
All and all the rest of the day went normally. Suno put the lion in one of the indoor enclosures and, though he seemed fine, watched him carefully. Around noon one of the woodsmen brought an injured rabbit in. Its front paw had been caught in a leghold trap intended for larger, much more valuable animals.  
  
Instead of treating the rabbit in the clinic where Raditsu was (as far as Suno could tell) she took it to the nursery, which was empty this time of year but just as well equipped to treat small animals as the clinic. It died a few hours later, as rabbits with even less extensive injures almost always did. This was one of the only two changes Raditsu caused in Suno`s routine.  
  
She spent the rest of the day cleaning enclosures along with Hachan, stopping often to check on the lion, which was doing better than she ever would have dreamed. When it became dark, she and Hachan went in the house that stood in the center of the other three buildings and Suno cooked dinner.  
  
Before going to bed, Suno did something she`d never done in the twenty-one years she`d spent in the house; she locked the doors.  
  
Chapter Nine Index Home Chapter Eleven  
  
  



End file.
